


The Devil's Keeper

by TheTruthAboutLove



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Inhuman AU, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2018-09-27 12:59:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 40
Words: 161,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10021772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTruthAboutLove/pseuds/TheTruthAboutLove
Summary: Maria stopped as soon as she entered the room and raised her eyes towards the woman in the cage, the reason they were called and ordered there. The alleged Black Widow.  The red hair, the green eyes, even the curious tilt of her chin were familiar to her. She knew that woman.“Natasha?”“Who told you that name?" [...] "I've never seen you before. But whatever I did to you,” she paused and faked a smirk, she felt her fingers begin to tingle, her jump was about to end, her time was almost up, “I'm going to enjoy every second of it.”





	1. The Web Thread

  
  


**[June 16th, 2078 – New York City]**

_Claire Danvers was having a very good day. The art gallery she owned and managed had been through a rough month, but this was the week business went up again and on that Thursday she sold three pieces. She couldn't even remember when the last time she had such a lucrative afternoon was. The day was coming to an end and she was talking with the woman who had just purchased a painting, when something seen out of the corner of her eye caught her attention._

_She turned around and saw, through the glass wall facing the street, a woman standing on the sidewalk. It took her exactly three seconds to recognize her; she had the greenest eyes and red hair that made her unmistakable._

_Claire smiled to herself and raised a hand, tentatively waving at the woman and gauging her reaction, hoping for a flash of recognition in her eyes. The woman blinked once, twice, then raised her right hand, that a moment before had been firmly pressed to her abdomen. Her fingers moved slightly in a greeting gesture. She smiled back. A weak, sad smile, that made Claire's heart beat a little faster in her chest. Her eyes shifted to the woman's hand. That was the moment her smiled vanished, as she saw the red stains on the fingers, the palm, the wrist. Something was wrong._

_She rushed to the door but could see as she opened it, the woman already starting to fall to her knees. She wasn't going to be able to catch her, she wasn't that fast. But though her eyes stayed on the exact same spot while she opened the door and moved forward, the woman disappeared into thin air. She was there a moment before, bleeding and lost, Claire was positive she hadn't imagined the woman._

_And yet, a moment later she was gone, before her knees could even hit the ground._

  
  


**[March 8th, 2007 – S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, location classified]**

Nick Fury was having a very bad day. A very bad week. A very bad month, even. The council had been harassing him about some of his projects and had essentially ordered him to drop some of the ones that weren't showing results yet. Furthermore, Coulson and May had been stationed on the helicarrier for a week and they were already starting to get restless, while Hawkeye and Morse had been starting to lose patience after three days. He was starting to envision a better future, a decade or something similar ahead, when his most promising agents weren't in their early twenties anymore and were actually experienced enough and patient enough to stop questioning his decisions and his orders.

His phone started ringing and he picked up swiftly, ready to hear about another problem, another failed project, another bit of bad news.

“Sir, this is Agent Simmons,” the speaker announced herself, even though her unmistakable British accent left no doubt. “I'm calling about the Web Thread.”

Ah, yes – another project that wasn't showing results. He had just finished discussing that matter with the council and they would probably have to shut it down soon.

“We did it, sir,” her voice trembled slightly at the end, like she was carefully trying to hold back the excited note that Fury could still detect, “we caught her.”

There was a moment when Fury thought maybe he had heard her wrong. Because he’d been having a terrible week – month, really – and this news was a game changer. This was what he needed to both show the council results and finally assign his most promising agents to a mission worthy of their time.

“Call the rest of the team assigned to this, I'm on my way.” He hung up the phone and got up, exiting his office and marching towards the lab with a new-found bounce in his step.

Once he got there, he took a moment to savor the feeling of a much needed victory, the feeling that things were finally turning in their favour. But not even Nick Fury could have ever been prepared for what was waiting for him on the other side of the lab door.

Fitz-Simmons were on his side as soon as he stepped in.

“Sir, we can't keep her here for much longer. We initially thought we had caught her, but after further analysis we realized this isn't the present-time her; she comes from 2002 and was jumping back into 2001,” Fitz explained.

“We pulled her out of her jump and brought her here, but it's like pulling on an elastic band, at some point it's going to snap back to its origin point,” Simmons went on.

Fury was hearing their voices, but he wasn't actively listening to them. The Web – that was what Fitz called it, but it wasn't anything more than a fancy cage with transparent walls – wasn't empty anymore. There was someone in it, but it wasn't the person Fury thought they would catch. They had been after her for months, years, and this was not what he thought they would see once they finally found her.

“-could be six hours, could be twelve seconds, there's no way to know. It all depends on how much time she was in the past for. We can only prevent her from jumping back, but when her time is up, there's nothing we can do, she'll jump back to her present time,” Simmons concluded.

“Sir, are you listening?” Agent Morse’s voice made him raise his gaze.

“This is her?” He asked Fitz-Simmons, then turned to Bobbi, and then back to the girl in the Web again. “This kid,” he stressed the word, “is the Black Widow?”

“Yes, sir. There is nobody else who can be caught in this machine,” Simmons confirmed. “Unless there's another time traveler we're not aware of. Which is highly improbable.”

The girl had long, red hair and piercing green eyes. She was short and looked really young standing there, her chin slightly tilted to the side, observing each one of them. Her eyes scanned the room, then Fury's person, then Fitz-Simmons. She looked briefly at Bobbi, May and Coulson, then stopped at Barton. After a second, her eyes darted away again and she resumed her observation of the room.

“We tried questioning her, she isn't answering any questions, not even about what year is she from, we had to pick up the trail she left to figure it out,” Bobbi told him.

“We thought maybe she didn't speak English,” Clint added, “we tried a few more languages, but nothing will get a reaction out of her.”

Fury didn't say anything, he kept staring through the glass wall at the girl. The Black Widow. She was known by many names, but that was by far the less dramatic. Other honorable mentions were the Devil's Mistress, the Dark Ghost, the Devil's Keeper and, Fury's personal favorite despite its minimalism, Mania – the goddess of death. Staring at her then felt surreal and beyond out-of-character. This little girl looked so innocent, whilst all those legends, all those stories about her, they were anything but.

He knew better than to be deceived by appearances, but it was still strange to say the least. He had the feeling that whatever might have been the thing that made her, that shaped her into the Goddess of Death, that turned her into the Black Widow, it hadn't happened yet.

“So, she's right here, but we can't keep her, we can't stop her, we can't even talk to her?” He turned and saw Fitz-Simmons look at each other and then to the ground, so he looked at Bobbi, but she just shook her head a little.

That was the moment the lab door opened again and Agent Carter walked in, followed by Agent Hill. They were the only other team members missing, but it wouldn't be important if they couldn't even figure a way to keep Black Widow around, there would be no prisoner to interrogate.

Carter muttered an apology about how they were on the deck when they got Jemma's call, but Fury was more concerned about the look in Hill's eyes than the fact they were a couple of minutes late. Something wasn't right.

Maria stopped as soon as she entered the room and raised her eyes towards the woman in the cage, the reason they were called and ordered there. The alleged Black Widow.

She froze, completely stopped dead in her tracks.

The red hair, the green eyes, even the curious tilt of her chin were familiar to her. She knew that woman.

Standing on shaky legs she stepped forward and walked to the glass, she felt Fury's eyes on her and with every step she took, she could practically feel the others starting to stare at her as well. She didn't care, she kept going forward until she was ahead of the rest of the team and beside Fury, just two feet away from the glass.

The woman looked at her, curiosity shining in her eyes but otherwise there was no sign of acknowledgment or recognition in her movements. She was so young. Younger than Maria had ever seen her. Did she not know who Maria was?

“Natasha?” She asked tentatively, after closing the gap and laying a hand on the glass.

The woman frowned at the name, stepped forward and for the first time reacted to something said to her since she was brought there.

“Who told you that name?”

Her voice made everyone in the room stiffen, it was such a charming voice. None of them ever thought about what would happen the day they finally got to her, the day the met that woman, the Black Widow. They thought about the feeling it would give to finally succeed, about all the lives they could save, the horrors that could be spared. But they never thought the day they put the Devil's Mistress in a cage, she would speak to them with the voice of an angel.

Maria tensed, her hand immediately retracted from the glass and she straightened her shoulders while her eyes hardened. It had been a long time, since she had last heard that voice.

_So at least the name was real._

It took just a couple of seconds. Everything was clicking fast, every single moment started to make sense and it all fitted so well that Maria wasn't sure how she hadn’t thought about this earlier. Then again, it was something so unfathomable that maybe not even herself, a trained soldier and S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, could have ever guessed it. But suddenly, everything that was unexplainable, became clear to her.

“Maria, what's going on?” Sharon's voice sounded distant and unimportant, like it was coming from a far-away place she couldn’t quite reach.

“Have you seen her before? Do you know each other?” Phil asked her, puzzled, trying to make sense of what was happening.

May looked at him and barely moved her head sideways to prompt him to stay quiet.

Nobody else said anything for a long moment.

“Why-” Maria's voice trembled, breaking the almost reverent silence that fell in the room, and as she whispered her eyes dropped to the ground. When she lifted her gaze again, barely two seconds later, and met the other woman's eyes, the redhead could see a darkness in them that wasn't there a moment before. “Why did you do this to me?”

Something, inside that agent, had been broken. Snapped in half.

Natasha almost cringed at the thought that _she_ did that. This agent, this woman standing in front of her, might have been the first person Natasha broke. The first innocent one she lured into the darkness that seemed to follow her everywhere, enveloping her surroundings at all times.

Those people obviously thought of her as the monster she had been always told she would become. There was no point in showing vulnerability, she had to assert the upper hand while she still had it.

“I've never seen you before. But whatever I did to you,” she paused and faked a smirk, she felt her fingers begin to tingle, her jump was about to end, her time was almost up, “I'm going to enjoy every second of it.”

Maria stared at her smirk, then at her eyes.

There had been a time when she would have given everything she possibly could in order to see those eyes again, just one more time.

She felt a lump in her throat as Natasha's words echoed in her mind. That twisted promise was the final proof that the woman in front of her wasn't the person Maria thought she was. She had been lying to her, deceiving her that whole time.

_You let her_ , she thought. _This is your fault._

Maria was a soldier. An agent. She should have known better than to trust someone so deeply, to listen to excuse after excuse, to be okay when she was fed one silly apology after the other. She should have figured it out sooner, how none of it was true. How everything was a lie. Every single word Natasha had ever said to her, it wasn't real.

Natasha wasn't real.

Maria felt a surge of utter rage raising in her chest. She was about to do something, or say something, anything, that would make the other woman respond. But before she could even begin to form a thought, Natasha raised a hand, wiggled her fingers, then disappeared into thin air.

The room was oddly silent for a long moment.

Nobody dared to speak and nobody knew what exactly happened or what to say to ease the tense atmosphere that settled among them.

Then, slowly, Maria seemed to make up her mind. She turned around, looked at Fury and raised her hands, fist clenched.

“Sir, you should arrest me.”

Fury eyed her, trying to figure if this was her way of joking around to break the tension, but then he remembered that Maria Hill never joked around while on the job.

“What for?” He settled on asking, for a lack of a better response.

Maria released a breath and tried not to sound too embarrassed or bitter as the words left her mouth.

“I have reason to believe that I'll be the one who sets the Black Widow free.”


	2. Know Your Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 2007, March 8th : S.H.I.E.L.D. captures the Black Widow for the first time  
> |  
> ○ → 2078, June 16th : Claire Danvers sees a dying woman on the sidewalk

  


**[March 8th, 2007 – S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, location classified]**

Maria was handcuffed and brought into an interrogation room, as per her request, by Phil Coulson and Clint Barton. After May’s not-so-quiet mutterings about how unnecessary and overly dramatic they were being, they removed the handcuffs once she was seated in the interrogatee’s chair. She knew May, Carter and Fury were probably standing behind the mirror glass, while Bobbi was most likely still in the lab with Fitz-Simmons trying to improve the Web.

She simply looked at them as Clint and Phil sat in front of her, not saying anything.

“Well, are you going to stare at me for the whole day?” She raised an eyebrow at her colleagues.

They looked at each other, before Coulson muttered what might have been a 'right' under his breath and opened the blank file in front of him, picking up a pen while Clint turned on the recorder on the table.

“Please state your name.” Phil started to write down the date and Maria’s name on the paper in front of him, while Clint just stared at her with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Agent Maria Hill.”

“Why the hell did you ask Fury to arrest you?” Clint cut in, after stopping the recorder again. He sighed and slid forward in his chair, his elbows landing on the table. “Look, just start from the beginning, tell us what happened and we'll decide what to do.”

Maria's eyes narrowed at him slightly. “You're putting a lot of trust in me.”

“We've been working together for three years, Maria. I have your back and I like to think you have mine, as well as the rest of the team's. Shouldn't I be trusting you?” He questioned, his eyebrows raising as he slightly scoffed at her.

“To be honest, I don't trust myself right now,” Maria admitted in an even tone that freaked even Clint out a little bit.

“You mean you wouldn't trust yourself if you were us,” Phil corrected.

Maria's gaze dropped, then rose back up. “No, I mean I don't trust myself. I don't trust my own eyes, right now. A lot of memories I have of the past few years feel tainted or perhaps even utterly fake. My perception of things is biased. I shouldn't be on this case, I shouldn't be on this team and I probably should not be in S.H.I.E.L.D. at all right now. I'm a liability.”

“Are you,” Clint frowned and laughed humorlessly at her, “resigning or something?”

“You don't resign from S.H.I.E.L.D.” Phil whispered beside him and gave him a look. Clint shrugged as Phil turned to Maria. “So, what I'm gathering here is that you might be the only person alive who has ever seen the Black Widow and lived to tell the tale. How can your place be anywhere other than on the front lines of this upcoming war?”

“There is no war,” Maria stated firmly, “don't you understand? If we were ever in a battle with her, she got out unfazed.”

“And how do you know all of this, Maria?” Clint asked, still skeptical.

Maria sighed and glanced at the mirror glass briefly. If Carter was listening in on the other side, she’d know if Maria lied. She was sure Sharon had already put two and two together. But she couldn't tell them everything, it would put them in danger as well if her suspicions were even close to the horrific truth she thought they were approaching.

“I met her about seven years ago. I was eighteen and she was,” she shook her head, “I don't know. She said she was twenty-three but,” she sighed and averted her eyes again, “I can't know for sure if she was telling the truth. But she was undoubtedly older than she looked today.”

“So you're confirming that she is indeed a time-traveller. You met her in the past and she looked older?” Phil asked her carefully.

Maria nodded, just once.

“What was she to you?” Clint pushed further, ignoring Phil's need to be specific.

“We were friends. Kind of. She popped up out of nowhere every once in a while and we hung out. She told me she was a federal agent and I never questioned it,” she told them, leaving out a large proportion of the details.

“How long have you two been in touch?” Phil cut in.

“Not that long,” Maria lied through her teeth. She couldn't tell them the entire truth, because if there was a chance Sharon wasn't onto her yet, she was going to be as soon as she specified the period of time they had been in touch for.

The door of the interrogation room opened loudly as Fury stepped in, hands crossed behind his back, posture a little stiffer than usual, but otherwise not showing any sign of being troubled. If Maria hadn't noticed the amount of force he had used to open up the door, she might have even doubted he’d heard a single word she said since before they’d entered the lab.

“Agent Hill,” he started calmly, “can you give us a name to identify the foreign spy also known as Black Widow?”

“Yes, sir.”

He nodded, then paused for a long moment.

“Is your loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D. in doubt, or was it ever in the past?”

“No, sir. I have never tampered with S.H.I.E.L.D. files or work, and she has not been in contact with me since I joined. Prior to that, we never discussed the military or work at all, she never asked me about missions or persons of interest. Our entire relationship was never something other than personal.”

He nodded again, then just stood there as he thought about his next move.

“You're head of the Web team effective immediately, Commander Hill. You will take charge of this entire operation and you will do your job with objective precision. You are our number one source on the most wanted Inhuman on the planet and if you think for a second you won't use that knowledge to help us keep our world safe, than you have another think coming.”

“But, sir-”

“I don't want to hear the next thing coming out of your mouth unless it's a name and surname, followed by you thanking me for putting you in charge of what might be our most important mission to date.”

Maria just stared at him. She thought she would’ve been kicked out of S.H.I.E.L.D. or possibly kicked into a prison. Why was Fury giving her a promotion?

It was undeniable, the recent turn of events made Maria the most qualified person for the job of tracking down the Black Widow, since she was the person who knew her best on the entire planet, not counting her unknown associates. But she was still personally involved with that woman and a self-declared liability to the team. Fury trusted her to do the right thing if she had to, he trusted her to make the right call when the moment came. He trusted Maria's loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D. and to her own team. The problem was, Maria didn't trust herself.

As much as she was doing a fine job at hiding it and keeping her emotions in place, at least on the exterior, internally she was falling more and more apart with every passing minute. Her entire life felt like a lie, all those moments they had shared, all those things Natasha told her, they were all fake and tainted and she felt like she didn't know who she was anymore. She felt lost and abandoned, she felt like she let down herself in a way she wasn't sure she could ever mend, no matter how much she tried.

But Fury was offering her that, a way to start to make amends. Maybe if she channeled her anger at Natasha’s deception into her work, into that chase, maybe it wouldn't all have been for nothing. She could use her own pain to win the battle, to help them catch the most wanted assassin of the entirety of human history. She couldn’t mend herself, but maybe she could help the rest of the world.

“Natasha Romanoff. I will bring her in, sir. That's a promise.”

Fury nodded. That was exactly what he wanted to hear.

  
  


Sharon opened the Helicarrier door that led to the storage and started to look around between the countless shelves aligned parallel to one another, searching for Maria. New agents were taught to never enter Fury's Hall of Antiques, also known as the storage bay, because rumour had it that once you went in, there were so much messed up things, that you might never find your way out.

Sure enough, she found Maria there, sat down on the floor with her back against a shelf and facing a wall.

“I thought I might find you down here,” she murmured, sitting down beside her.

“I'm a terrible agent. It looks exactly like her. I should have known.”

Sharon lifted her eyes and looked at what Maria had been staring since she disappeared a couple of hours before. It was a painting.

It was _the_ painting.

“It's hair and half of a face,” Sharon pointed out.

“It's half of _her_ face. I should have known.”

The antique painting was a replica, in which the secondary figure was close to being stylized but was not quite coloured-in. It left the exposed shadow of an old faded canvas that could just be made out underneath the soft contours of the figure's hair and back. But behind them stood the clear focal point of the piece, the real protagonist of the painting. She was alone in facing forwards and the only figure to be fully painted in colours that brought out the red of her hair and the sharp line of her jaw, with her face angled in such a way that her lips were a whisper away from touching the ear of her counterpart. Her lips were red and the one sparkling green eye that could be seen was staring ahead, shining in challenge to whosoever dared to observe her portrait.

The painting ended a couple of inches below the shoulder blades of the turned figure. A black web covered them both, its center on the woman's lips and its threads weaved across the entire painting.

“The Devil's Keeper,” Maria whispered, “or rather, the only replica Fury could get his hands on,” she corrected herself. “Legend has it the painter called it that because apparently this woman could control the devil himself.”

“I thought it was called-” she thought about it for a moment but couldn't remember what it was she heard others call it “-something else,” Sharon said.

“Well, the Devil's Mistress is nothing more than the objectification of her femininity in a misogynistic society, it surfaced relatively recently and it's not accurate. The Dark Ghost makes no sense because as you saw, she's alive and well. And Mania, the Goddess of Death? That's what she was called before the painting, in ancient civilisations, such as the Romans. After the painting, due to the black web and her red lips, despite the title of the painting being ‘The Devil's Keeper’, she's been called Black Widow by pretty much everyone.”

“Why?”

“Self-asserted name, mostly.”

Sharon looked at her with a frown, so Maria shrugged and sighed.

“How do you know all this?”

“As I said, it’s self-asserted. Natas-, Black Widow told me this. The story behind this painting and the story behind her name. Apparently this was her lover and the hands and neck are covered in blood in the original painting. And, given the red on Nat-, on her lips, it was interpreted as her killing her lover. Hence, the name ‘Black Widow’.”

“Is it true? Is this her lover? Is this the Devil? Is _she_ the Devil?”

Maria side eyed Sharon warningly. “I don't know. I didn't really know her, Carter. I just know what she wanted me to see, what she wanted me to remember about her. I feel like every second we spent together was designed by her. Like it was all just a game.”

Sharon looked at the painting again.

There was a sadness creeping through the strokes of the painter's brush. It was just a replica, and yet the unmistakable heaviness of the moment shone through as though, for a split second, Sharon could imagine herself right there, almost a thousand years before, standing in the Black Widow's arms as her hand caressed her own hair. She felt as though the story told in that painting wasn't one of murder, but one of sacrifice.

But she couldn't quite pinpoint why.

“Then you know what you have to do, Maria.”

“I really don't,” she scoffed.

“We play back,” Sharon said decisively. “We win, defeat her at her own game. You have the upper hand right now. You know her and she doesn't know you. Use that.”

Maria sighed and looked down. “I'm just a Commander, Sharon. I wouldn't even be in charge of the team if I hadn’t admitted that I’d met her before.”

“You're a Commander,” Sharon repeated. “You're the highest in grade in our whole team and Fury's had his eye on you for a while now. It was just a matter of time until you were put in charge of our team, he had to step down at some point.”

“The one-eye joke never gets old,” Maria chuckled lightly. “I don't know, I feel like Phil, Melinda and yourself are all equally competent. I can't shake the feeling that I wouldn't be in charge if it wasn't for my connection to her, and now this is another thing in my life that she’s tainted.”

“Maria, you deserved this and you would’ve gotten here on your own, maybe it would have taken a little longer, but you would have. You're the youngest agent in charge of a team, Fury wouldn't have done that if he didn't think you could do this.”

Sharon got up and stood between Maria and the picture she had been staring at, effectively blocking her view. She offered her a hand.

“It's time to prove you earned this, Commander Hill.”

Maria sighed, before a determined glint shone in her eyes and stood up, only taking Sharon's hand after rising by herself.

“Let's go catch ourselves an assassin, Agent Carter.”

Sharon smiled, shook her hand, then followed her out of the room. They had a lot of work to do, and no idea whatsoever on where to start.

  
  


After the first ten minutes Maria spent staring at the map Fitz-Simmons built, with the locations and times of the Black Widow's jumps scattered across it, everyone on the team started thinking she wouldn’t be speaking anytime soon.

“I say we wait until her next jump and trap her again,” Clint said after a long silence.

“It wouldn't work,” Bobbi stepped in. “We know now that she is forced back to the exact time and location she jumps from, or rather from one to twenty-four seconds into the future from the exact point in the space and time she is when she starts travelling.”

“Yes, that seems to be her range. Although she stays in the past for a length of time variable from one to twenty-four _hours_ , so time works differently when she jumps,” Jemma noted out loud.

“You mean that when she disappears for a second she's actually been gone an hour?” Phil asks, baffled.

“And she can transport people. Not the younger Black Widow we brought here,” Fitz clarified, “but we noticed, in our monitoring of the present Black Widow's jumps, that there is more than one person travelling sometimes. We assume two Red Room agents are being sent with her to protect her.”

“Or to make sure she does as she's ordered,” May spoke for the first time, not even looking at them, her eyes fixed on Maria's back.

“So if we can't catch her by transporting her here from a jump, how the heck do we get to her?” Clint wondered, frowning.

“Can we use the trail she leaves when she jumps to trace back her original location?” Sharon asked to Fitz-Simmons.

“We already did that, but it's hard to determine exactly the time and space she jumps from, it's all an approximation,” Fitz said, then paused and looked at Bobbi.

“It's in the map Hill has been staring at for ten minutes. The locations seems precise enough to track a building in the vicinity that fits Red Room standards, so we could be rather sure we're entering the right facility,” Morse continued, “but...” she sighed.

“There's no way to be sure when she was in them. This has all happened in the span of the last five years, but there's forty-nine different spots” Simmons pointed at the map. “Even trying to eliminate the older ones and just considering the ones we're sure she has jumped from in the past year, there's thirteen of them. And we can't narrow it down any further without risking leaving out a recent one. Our evaluations are really approximations, we don't know enough about this-, about _her,_ yet.”

“So, what are our options here, exactly? Wait and see if she just turns up somewhere? Hope we can track the place of her next jump?” Clint sounded overly skeptical.

“Well, that would be,” Bobbi slowly turned to look at Maria, her voice barely more than a whisper, “our Commander's decision to make.”

“Hill's in shock, she's been staring at dots for fifteen minutes,” Phil murmured, “let's give her some time to process this and then-”

“Maria?” Sharon called, turning to her as well.

Melinda had been staring at her since she walked in. “She's not in shock,” she said to Phil. “She's planning. She's in charge and you better start trusting her, because whatever is about to come out of her mouth, we're gonna have to go with it,” her voice was steady and unemotional. May didn't sound worried or troubled about having to follow the other woman's impending orders, on the contrary, she sounded ready to lead the rest of the team straight into battle if she was told to.

They were all silent for a long minute. Maria kept studying the map silently, her arms crossed on her chest, her face blank.

Clint sighed and turned to Phil, Sharon and Bobbi. “I say we ask Fury for some strike teams and start to take down the Red Room facilities one by one, it might take a while but-”

“Shut up Agent Barton, and that's an order.”

He glanced briefly at Maria, then shrugged her comment off and resumed his conversation with the other agents.

“We just need-”

“Did I stutter?” Maria turned around abruptly, her arms uncrossed and her hands moved behind her back. “Shut up.”

He inhaled deeply and was about to try to retort calmly, when Maria addressed everyone else in the room and spoke louder.

“It's been almost half a day since we had her in the Web. She knows we’re ready to contain her as soon as we catch her and possibly neutralize any threat in our way. We have a containment unit. We're equipped not only to fight back against the Red Room but quite possibly annihilate them. She knows that. And yet,” she points out, “if we go in now, and we start randomly taking down facilities like Agent Barton just suggested, they will decide to unleash Black Widow against us,” she hypothesized. “If we get too close without actually capturing her and she gets on the Helicarrier, all it takes is _one_ second. One unsupervised second. She goes back to the exact same spot but on the night before, plants explosives all around the ship, and when she comes back a second later we all blow up. The moment the Red Room knows our location, we're dead.”

Clint frowned and looked briefly down, thinking about a counter argument. When he couldn't find a good one he looked back up with a sheepish expression.

“What's the plan?” May asked.

Maria thought back to what Natasha once said to her. She remembered that moment with a fondness that felt almost childish at that point.

“ _You saved my life in more than one way. You were there when I needed you, I sometimes think I wouldn't have survived a day longer without you. You set me free.”_

She always thought Natasha meant that metaphorically. But if those words were actually the Black Widow's phrasing for another reason?

_You set me free._

Maybe Maria wasn't going to release her from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s custody. Maybe she was actually going to bring her in after freeing her from the Red Room.

Maria turned back to the computer monitor and looked at the clock on the right lower corner, “it's almost seven.”

“You weren't staring at the map. You were staring at the clock,” Sharon frowned.

For some reason, it was a time Natasha particularly liked. She used to set up many of their meetings at 7pm. Maybe it was just out of habit, but then again, maybe it was something she hadn't developed yet. This wasn't the Natasha that she knew, this was a younger version, somehow different. Almost unfinished. She could be mistaken. And yet, she had the strong feeling that if Natasha wanted to come to them to ask for help, there would be no better time or place than 7pm.

“If I'm wrong I'll be happy to go with Clint's plan that could get us all killed, but there's no harm in waiting a few more seconds, right?”

Clint rolled his eyes as they waited in silence, until the numbers on the clock turned to 19:00. Then Maria felt like the last grain of hope she had that she actually did know Natasha, and that what they had was real, vanish completely.

“Well, standing here in silence has been fun and all, but-,” Barton was abruptly interrupted when a surge of energy made them turn to the corner of the room on the left of the Web.

Standing there was the Black Widow herself, covered in blood – her hands, her cheeks, her suit, and even her hair – but without a single scratch. Her eyes darted among all the faces and finally settled on Maria’s.

“Hello again. I would like to turn myself in.”

Maria pointed at the screen on the wall behind herself while never taking her eyes off of the woman standing just a couple of feet from herself.

Her eyes looked haunted and she was pale, deep dark lines circled her eyes and she was skinnier than Maria had ever seen her. She couldn't imagine what would make someone like the Black Widow – the time traveler credited with the destruction of the Roman Empire, the beginning of all the World Wars to date, and even the Fire of Pompeii – turn herself in. But whatever it was, she knew she couldn't imagine such horrific events.

“Number thirty-seven for now, but they move me the day after every jump. I don't know where they will take me and I can't move unless they order me to, and even then I always have two guards to keep me in check.”

“We'll be there before they move you. Buy us some time, if you can.”

The Black Widow smirked, but it wasn't the wicked smirk she gave Maria from inside the Web, if anything it was haunted instead of haunting.

“You are twelve hours in the past to when I came from. That should give you plenty of time to get there.”

“How do we know this isn't a trap? You turn yourself in the same day we proved we can catch you, it sounds pretty convenient,” Sharon stepped in.

“It wasn't a coincidence,” Natasha corrected, “you brought a younger me here, I had just recently gotten my powers and it was one of my first jumps. I didn't know yet how to visit a temporal point where my footprint hadn't already been. Basically, the only reason you managed to catch me today and not the other dozens of other times you tried, was because I would decide to be here today, five years later, in the same room. And the only reason I was able to get here now, was because you showed this room to my eighteen years old self. Time travel is a constant loop of self-sustained nonsense, don't try to understand it, most of the time I can't either.”

She looked at them all while talking, but turned again towards Maria after she finished. She looked tired and defeated.

“See you soon,” she gave her a last one-sided smirk, then disappeared again.

For a very long while nobody dared to talk.

“Get ready, I'm asking Fury for a Quinjet and we leave in half an hour,” Maria ordered, marching towards the room without looking back at the astonished expressions on her colleagues faces. She could hear Fitz-Simmons already discussing all the new information they got from that brief encounter, but she kept walking while doing her best to stop the slight trembling of her hands and slow down her racing heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll post a timeline in the summary of the chapters with the most important events of the previous one. It should help with the dates, but it shouldn't get that complicated, it's really easy to follow the story even without them.
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


	3. The Black Widow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 2007, March 8th : S.H.I.E.L.D. captures the Black Widow for the first time  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2007, March 8th : The Black Widow turns herself in to Maria Hill  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2078, June 16th : Claire Danvers sees a dying woman on the sidewalk

  


** [February 1998 – Moscow, Russia] **

Natalia Alianova Romanova lost her first true friend when she was fourteen years old. The day it happened, she felt like the last drop of her childhood had been drained.

She didn't know what day it was, but it wasn't a pressing concern since she wasn't sure she would eventually get out of there, and to a place where she actually could get the chance to mourn that loss at its recurring anniversary.

There were hundreds of girls in the programme and Katia was smaller than most; she wasn't bound to last long. Actually, she would have probably lasted a lot less time if Natalia hadn't tried to protect her for so long. Nevertheless, that loss changed her.

She had been taken by the Red Room when she was four – or maybe five? She didn't remember it well enough to tell. She was taught how to speak multiple languages without an accent, she was taught how to do ballet without a flaw, she was taught how to use any object as a weapon and to show no mercy in front of an enemy.

When they turned fourteen they were perfect fighters. She knew several martial arts and used them with the graciousness of a ballerina.

There weren't many of them left, at least not compared to the size of the starting group. But there were still enough that Ivan Bezukhov, the trainer, made them fight against each other. He claimed it was to teach them how to be focused when under pressure, to teach them how fighting for one's life could bring out their most ferocious side. But Natalia suspected the real reason was several shades darker. A twisted glint in his eye almost made it seem, to her, that he liked to see them fight.

Natalia never lost a fight.

Then, one day, Bezukhov made her spar against Katia.

Natalia knew better than to care for the other girls. A lot of them didn't last long. Katia had a gentle soul and a big heart, she was doomed from the moment she was recruited. Natalia made sure she ate enough, passed the tests and learnt the languages. But there was only so much she could do to protect her. Bezukhov noticed his prodigy was distracted and held back by that friendship, so he made them fight each other.

Natalia won, quickly and almost without causing pain to her opponent. He got up from his chair, took her wrist and put a gun in her hand.

“She lost. She is weak. You must show no sign of weakness. Kill her.”

Natalia shook her head and forced the gun back into his hands.

“Kill her,” he repeated coldly.

Natalia refused again.

He loaded the gun and held the barrel against her forehead. Natalia didn't beg him to let her live. She didn't scream or cry or move. She kept looking at him, waiting.

“You think this will save her?” He asked rhetorically. He moved the gun quickly, taking one single shot at Katia's head, then putting the barrel back against Natalia's forehead. “Next time, if you don't shoot, I will kill the girl you fought. And then I will kill you, too.”

Natalia was fourteen years old, but the horrors she went through made her decade in the Red Room feel heavier than ten lifetimes.

The next day she fought again. She won again. When Bezukhov put a gun in her hand, she turned around, raised her arm, and shot the girl she defeated. She couldn't afford to be weak. She never made another friend.  
  
  


**[2000 – Moscow, Russia]**

There were twenty-eight left. Twenty-eight Black Widows went through the graduation ceremony and Natalia was among them. That title, graduation ceremony, was nothing else but a fancy term to make something truly despicable sound like it would actually bring them some relief. The hope it would all be over.

It had just been the beginning.

After the medical procedure they were married to a guardian. Alexei Shostakov was a hardened man, Natalia could understand, and even respect that. What she could not agree with was his desire to have a soft woman by his side. Natalia had been hardened as well.

They were forced together and, eventually, they grew fond of each other in the few months they stayed married. They did not, by any means, fall in love with one another. But they learned to trust each other and formed a deep connection. Perhaps, Natalia would even go as far as to say, that they became friends.

When Ivan Bezukhov came to take her back, Alexei invited him into their home and the three of them sat together. Alexei brought him a drink and Ivan waited until he finished his vodka to shoot him between the eyes. Every man deserves to finish his last drink, after all.

“Love is for children, Natalia. You should have learned that lesson a long time ago.”

Maybe she hadn't with Katia. She was younger and still somehow hopeful that she would be able to escape, eventually. But she learned her lesson, then.

Natalia loved Alexei.

She vowed never to love again.

Love was for children. And her childhood had ended a long time ago.  
  
  


**[March 2002 – Moscow, Russia]**

There were twenty-one left. Natalia never asked what happened outside of the Red Room to the seven that didn't make it back. She knew they died, there was no other way to get away from the Red Room, but if the trigger was pressed by an enemy, a former ally or themselves, she was never meant to know.

She had been on an handful of missions. Nothing too difficult, not since Alexei died. For whatever reason they gathered them back together, she was positive it could not be anything good.

“An old friend of mine brought me a gift. The Terrigen,” Bezukhov said to them. “We think this could finally reveal the one true Black Widow to us.”

They all knew where the name came from.

That legend had been repeated to them until they could basically recall it word-for-word. The Black Widow was rumored to be a time traveller, an Inhuman. She was the bringer of death, and wherever she went destruction shadowed her every step.

According to a lost portrait she had red hair, and that was why all of them had red hair too. They were chosen in the hope that one of them would be the legend. But, even after all their experiments, it still seemed impossible. Until then, at least.

Bezukhov exited the room.

They all looked at each other, trying to figure if someone knew what was going on, until Bezukhov's voice clarified what was happening through a speaker, whilst black fumes started to be dispersed into the air around them,

“Soon, you will be enveloped by the Terrigen Mist. The process you are about to go through is called Terrigenesis, it's an antique ceremony. This will make you perfect.”

Or, he omitted, it would kill them trying. Three of them survived the Terrigenesis. One of them went insane shortly after. Another killed herself by accident, misusing her power before she could learn to control it. The third one, Natalia, became the Black Widow.

“Do you feel different?” Bezukhov asked her many times in the following days.

She kept shaking her head every single time.

“Can you use your power? Can you _do_ something? Anything _at all_?” He spoke through gritted teeth. There was rage in his voice and disgust in his eyes, like she was wasting the most precious gift in the world. Natalia kept shaking her head.

She lost count of how many days went by, she was forced back into training. It became tougher and longer, until she barely got enough sleep, but Bezukhov was determined to bring out whatever power the Mist gave her. The problem was, Natalia wasn’t sure if she’d been given a power at all.

It didn't matter what they tried, physical fatigue, training to her tolerance limits, make her fight for her life, nothing seemed to work. Nothing was enough to trigger her power. So, the Red Room resorted to pain. 

Torture didn't work either. Nothing worked. She was powerless in every sense of the word.

Natalia had been scared of the darkness when she was a child. She used to always seek a light, it didn’t matter if it was just a small glimpse coming from under the door, she would stare at it until she was able to fall asleep. When Bezukhov found out, he sealed the door. He made her room darker and scarier.

She would train in daylight. She would get beaten up, scorned, abused in daylight. In her room, at night, it was peaceful there. Calm. She understood that and she learnt not to be scared of the dark anymore.

Although her room was no longer sealed, and the light crept from under the door, and the moonlight came through her window, although she wasn't a kid anymore, she sometimes pretended she was back there, in that pitch black corner where nobody could see her. She would sit down on the floor and imagine a world where her brothers, her parents, Katia and Alexei were still alive, where she was the one who had died instead of them. She wouldn't have been there to see it, but still she thought that it would have been a better world. She sat down, hugged her knees to her chest, and closed her eyes.

Later that night, she heard the door open. When she looked up she could see the figure standing in the doorway and she had no doubt as to their identity, not even for a second. It was Bezukhov. 

He closed the door behind him.

“Get up.”

Natasha slowly rose up on trembling legs, the tiredness of the day washing over her and making every sore muscle in her body feel like iron.

“You were a prodigy. The youngest Black Widow. The one who survived the Mist. And yet, you are useless to me now.”

He walked to her. Natasha backed up against the wall, to the point where she couldn't get further away from him, not even half an inch. He kept moving until he was close enough to touch her face with one hand. She turned her chin to the right, so he held her tighter to make her turn forward again, to make her turn to _him_ again. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and the sour taste of bile rising into her throat. When his other hand landed on her waist, she felt like she was ready to throw up.

“Maybe I was too soft on you, because you were my favorite.”

If she wasn't almost certain she knew what he was about to do to her, she would have scoffed at him right then. _Soft_? Ivan Bezukhov had beaten her, tortured her, and almost killed her. He had been anything but soft to her. And yet, the unsettling thought that she was the only one who survived him forced its way to the forefront of her mind.

He let go of her chin and gently tucked a stray hair behind her ear. Natalia felt the smell of vodka and cigars fill her nostrils, she felt his breath on her skin, the roughness of his hand pressing on her waist and she closed her eyes. She wanted, more than anything else she had ever wanted before, to be anywhere else in the world, in the galaxy, in the universe. Anywhere but right there in that moment. The feeling was strange, and yet oddly familiar in a way. Like her body was being painlessly torn apart and dismantled, before being put back together.

She suddenly felt cold and her cheeks were wet. She wasn't crying, she knew better than to show weakness in front of Bezukhov. She opened her eyes and found herself not standing in a dark room any longer, but out in an open field in the rain. She heard someone scream in the distance and looked around, she knew this place. It was near to the house she grew up in, before she knew loss and pain and defeat, it was her childhood home. And the scream? It was hers.

She started running in the direction of the house, but once she got there the only thing she saw was a minivan driving away. She remembered being taken when she was four, in the middle of the night, right after the rest of her family was killed off. 

How could it be? How could she be there? It had happened a lifetime ago. The answer came to her almost immediately. She was the last one, the only one who survived. She was _the_ Black Widow. The Goddess of Death from Bezukhov's legend.

She stood there, staring at the front door. She knew what she would find inside, and it would be nothing but death. She turned around, ready to leave, when she heard a cry of pain coming from inside the house. It was one of her little brothers, Mikhail. She rushed into the house and up the stairs to his room, his cries for help became progressively closer. Maybe she could save him, if she just got there in time. She opened the door and headed straight for him as soon as she saw him, but she realized immediately there was nothing she could do. He was shot, and bleeding out too fast for her to do anything. She sat with him and whispered comforting words. He kept calling her mom; Natalia didn't correct him. She just held him and waited by his side until he wasn't in pain anymore. She closed her eyes, then kissed him on the forehead one last time.

She felt her hands tingling and, a moment later, the smell of vodka and cigars pervaded her senses once again. She opened her eyes and Bezukhov took a hasty step backwards, while staring at her with wide, startled eyes.

“You disappeared.” He tried his best not to stutter. “Your face- your hands,” he eyed her, taking another step back.

She looked at her own hands, covered in her brother's blood. Her face must have been stained too, since she wiped a tear away. She figured there was only one way she was going to make it out of that situation without having to endure a new kind of torture, so she just raised her gaze, looked him straight in the eye, and _smirked_.

“I am ready,” she whispered, “to fulfill my destiny.”

If she had only known what fate had in store for her, she would’ve known she wasn't going to be ready for a long time yet to come.

  


She jumped again, to prove to Bezukhov that, with enough time, she could master the ability and do so at will. She ended up back at her childhood home, but it was much, much later in time, judging from the rotten weeds in the garden and the house that looked as though it had been abandoned for a while. He made her try again and again, asking her to travel to locations he decided, but she couldn't do it when he ordered her to, she couldn't figure out why.

When she finally managed to jump for the third time, she was standing yet again in the same open field, and the house was beginning to fall apart. It looked as though it had been years since anyone had travelled anywhere near that small countryside home. It could have been close to the present, or maybe only a few months ago. She tried to go back but instead, she felt her jump being shifted and something dragged her away from her course and towards some kind of energy magnet. When her surroundings came into focus again, she was standing inside what appeared to be a cage with glass walls, and three scientists staring in at her. She looked at the electronic clock on the wall. It was 11:38 am, March 8th2007\. She had just been transported more than five years in the future.

  
  
  



	4. This Too, Shall Pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 1998 : Natalia Romanova is 14 years old when she witnesses her only friend being killed  
> |  
> ○ → 2000 : Natalia is 16 and has an arranged marriage with Red Room agent Alexei Shostakov  
> |  
> ○ → 2002: Natalia goes through the Terrigen Mist and begins her training as an Inhuman  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 8th : S.H.I.E.L.D. captures the Black Widow for the first time  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 8th : The Black Widow turns herself in to Maria Hill

  
  


**[March 9th, 2007 – 100 miles North of Tomsk, Russia]**

Maria put her ear-piece in after loading her gun.

“Report in, do you copy?” She asked testing the line connecting all the team members. They all responded affirmatively. “Are you all in position?” Again, all of them responded affirmatively.

They were just outside the main entrance to the facility Natalia had pointed them to, and they were about to strike. Maria, Phil and May were going to get through the main wing, the North one, while Bobbi and Sharon entered West and proceeded South. Hawkeye would stay outside and serve as the sniper in case someone tried to sneak out.

“Hawkeye, whenever you're ready take out the two sentinels.”

“I was born ready” came the sassy response that made Maria roll her eyes. Sure enough, a second later, two arrows struck their necks simultaneously.

“You _knew_ I meant one at a time,” Maria whispered, “but this works too, let's go.”

They went in, taking down any resistance they met along the way, which admittedly wasn't much; it was odd.

“Anyone else feeling like this might be a trap?” Bobbi voiced her concerns. “West wing clear, Carter and I are heading South.”

“North wing clear too,” May reported, “there were less than ten agents here.”

“This is starting to feel like a trap,” Phil murmured.

“We need to all go East,” Maria ordered hurriedly, “according to Fitz's maps there's an unlisted room. At this point we have to get to her as soon as possible and then get the hell out of here once we’ve captured her.”

They met up on one of the corridors and, after taking down a few more agents, moved towards the room Fitz had assessed as the most likely to be the Black Widow's.

“Morse, Carter, you stay here and guard the hallway. Coulson, May, you stand on watch at the door. I'm going in.”

“Alone? What if she's armed?” Hawkeye asked over the comm line. “Screw that. She's the Black Widow, armed or not, why on Earth would you go in there alone?”

Maria completely ignored him and looked at May. They nodded to each other, then Maria counted down to three before kicking the door open. May got behind her, they stood shoulder to shoulder as Maria stepped into the dark room. The dim light from the hallway barely allowed her to see the inside of the room, so she needed a couple of seconds to locate the woman sitting on the floor, her knees hugged to her chest. She lifted her chin when the light came in and, looked at the figure in the doorway. Maria could see she wasn't stained in blood anymore, she probably hadn't been back for more than an hour, because she still looked exhausted. She did say she was twelve hours in the future, after all.

She slowly raised her hands. Maria draw her gun on her, but she quickly realized Natalia was offering her wrists to her, so Maria would be able to handcuff her.

“So this is it? You're not even going to try to fight back?” Maria asked, a little puzzled.

“I asked you here. I'm turning myself in. Why would I fight back?” Her voice was raspy, tired, and there was a bitter note to it.

Maria eyed her a moment longer, then nodded and lowered her gun.

“Why is there so little security here?” She asked while putting Fitz-Simmons’ special handcuffs on her and helping her up.

“Why are these glowing blue?” Natalia nodded to her own wrists.

“It's complicated. Basically, it’s a metal meant to restrain your powers; it mimics an Asgardian metal, our two best scientists reproduced it.”

“English and Scottish?” she inquired.

“Why the low defense, Natasha?” Maria insisted.

“Is it the same metal that makes the cage work?”

“Do you actually want us to make it out alive or are you just going to keep asking me questions until I shoot you and then your friends shoot us?”

“Those people are not my friends,” Natalia responded with a hardness to her tone, “and there is all the defense they could possibly need,” she pointed at herself. “Nobody could ever survive a fight against me,” she stated matter of factly.

“And yet here we are,” Maria pointed out.

“I'm not fighting, am I? They couldn't predict I would turn myself in.”

Shots being fired in the hallway caught their attention.

“You guys sound like you're doing a lot of bonding, that's super nice but we're kinda in the middle of this massive fight?” Phil reminded her.

“Let's move out,” Maria ordered as she indicated for Natalia to lead the way out of the room and before following, her eyes scanning the hallway, but the barrel of her gun always aimed at the woman in front of her.

They got out easily enough and Hawkeye covered them on the brief crossing from the exit to the evacuation point. He caught up to them as they piled into an armored van, May got into the driving seat and they drove to the extraction point where their Quinjet was waiting.

Natalia kept quiet and resolved to stare at the ground and make no eye contact for the rest of the trip back. Maria sat next to her and took out her earpiece, her left hand circled Natalia's right elbow as her gun stayed trained on the redhead.

“Your eighteen year old self didn't know who I was,” she whispered, her voice hard. “Do you? Do you know me?”

Natalia stared into her eyes. Those pretty blue eyes she’d seen twice before. She was vaguely aware of the stares from the other members of the team, but chose to ignore them.

“You can really hold a grudge, Maria.”

The use of her name made her react instantly. She didn't lose her composure, but Natalia clearly saw her jaw twitch and her back go stiff as she inhaled deeply.

“New York, 2000. I said I'd meet you again and I didn't show up” she mocked. “It was seven years ago, for you,” Natalia pointed out, “you should really get over it.”

Maria kept staring at her, like she was trying to figure out if Natalia was lying to her; but she seemed satisfied enough with what she saw to let go of her elbow.

“You met once?” Clint asked, a little baffled. “You know all this about her, you drove us into what might have been a trap, because you two met _one time_ before?”

“To be fair,” Natalia looked at him briefly, “it was one intense time.”

She went back to staring at the ground. Maria shook her head warningly to Clint, then settled back and stared ahead.

Natalia could still see, out of the corner of her eye, Maria's gun was pointed at her even now.

  
  


**[September 2005 – Moscow, Russia]**

Time and space travel were not easy powers to master. It took years of training before Natalia started to be able to jump wherever and whenever she wanted to. Sometimes she would try her hardest and still nothing would happen, other times she would barely notice she was about to leap and before she knew it she was stuck in the field outside her childhood home, hiding from sight and waiting to be brought back. 

Her jumps ranged, she discovered, from a fraction of a second to twenty-four seconds in the present, while she would be in the past for a few minutes to twenty-four hours. They roughly estimated one second in the present was equal to one hour in the jump. After she started to be able to jump when she actually meant to, they started training her to jump to specific places. They used hidden locations and places where nobody would spot her. It took her a long time, but she eventually was able to chose a place to jump to and go there with a margin of error of about five square feet.

Then it came the hard part. She had to travel to a specific time. That took longer than anticipated and Bezukhov was not happy, but three years later she was able to travel to a prearranged point in space and time at will. 

Nothing could stop her, she was invincible and Ivan never lost an occasion to remind her just how powerful she was. He convinced her she was the Goddess of Death. That she could use her power to make Mother Russia the most powerful country in the world, once again. That she finally had a purpose to serve. She truly felt unstoppable.

That was when the missions began. They were quite simple, at first, A few for intel, a dozen data retrievals, a couple of assassinations. Nothing she hadn't been forced to do by Bezukhov even before she’d acquired her powers. He always made her take two other agents with her; he said it was in order to protect her but Natalia knew it was to make sure she didn't wind-up back to the present armed and ready to kill all of them before running off. Not that she would have done that. Bezukhov brainwashed her so many times, he’d turned her into a weapon. And she didn't know another life but that one. But, then they’d sent her to São Paulo.

It was supposed to be a fairly simple mission, just another simple data retrieval job. The agents who travelled with her were supposed to wait for her outside the building, but they snuck in after her and hid explosives all over the place. When they met outside, she saw one of them press a button on a device she recognized as a detonator and, while transporting them all back to the present, she could almost hear the faint blast of an explosion behind them.

She did her research and found the building, it was just a factory. Then she looked at the newspaper headlines for the morning after they went to São Paulo; Thirty-eight people died when it exploded, either those working the night shift or just unlucky enough to be passing by. Thirty-eight innocent people had lost their lives because Bezukhov wanted to make sure that nobody besides himself got to that data. It wasn't even something that important, she’d merely stolen the blueprints for a new, technologically-advanced means of transportation.

They didn't need transportation. He was selling the blueprints to the highest bidder, even if they were three months old nobody had been able to replicate them; it was just about money. They started moving her around after that, changing facilities after every jump she made; she never asked why. Whatever illusion Natalia might have held about working for the greater good, working to bring back her country's glory, that notion deserted her right then and there. There was nothing good in what they were doing, in what she was doing. They were mercenaries, selling their services to the highest bidder, not caring who got caught up in the crossfire. Just like Katia, just like Alexei, just like her family, it didn't matter who died as long as Bezukhov got what he wanted.

Natalia knew it would have been smarter to just do as she was told and not care about who got caught in the crossfire, yet she did care, innocents should never have been involved. They shouldn't have been so reckless. But if losing all the people she loved had taught her anything, it was that there was no point in refusing to follow orders. They would only have tortured her until she complied. They would have brainwashed her again, just as she was starting to get some clarity back, remembering days on end, sometimes up to full weeks. So she stayed silent, and complied.

  
  


**[July 31st, 2006 – 75 miles East of Samara, Russia]**

She didn't remember much about the hospital fire. It was in St Petersburg, she remembered that detail from the briefing as that was where she had grown-up. Well, technically, she grew up in the countryside near the city, but to her, it was still her hometown. 

She remembered refusing. It wasn't some political move, it wasn't to reach a bigger goal, it was attaching their own country and throwing away every ounce of patriotism they had ever fed her; it was stepping out of their own lies, an admission of not caring at all about Russia's best interests for so as long as they would profit. Things got blurry after she refused; her first thought was that she might have been drugged. Her head was pounding and when she closed her eyes a cascade of images filled her mind, and the sounds, the horrific sounds came a moment later.

They resorted to her conditioning again, activating some kind of switch in her brain after she refused, and then they sent her in anyway. She remembered people yelling, running, and the unmistakable smell of gasoline. She was the one who initiated the hospital fire. It was her fault. She was the one who had killed them all, to hide some hard copies of the medical records inside the building. It had to look like an accident. So she burned everything and she killed everyone inside.

Natalia closed her eyes and wished the conditioning had worked better, so she wouldn't have to remember that mission at all. She turned on her side, curled up in the fetal position and tried to understand why she cared if other people got hurt. It was a stupid weakness to have and it was holding her back. She was the Goddess of Death, she was supposed to enjoy killing people. Why instead, was it making her feel like she should refuse to? 

She had to find a way to embrace her power, before Bezukhov found a way to force her to.

  
  


**[December 3rd, 2006 – Ekaterinburg, Russia]**

There were days she felt like that little four-year old again. Powerless, scared and uncared for. Lonely. She was once again sitting on the floor of her room, her head leaned back against the wall, her knees hugged to her chest. She had the ability to disappear and materialize anywhere in all of the history of time and space, and yet, she seemed unable to haunt a place she actually wanted to be in. She knew Bezukhov had her monitored, but she could say her powers slipped, that she had had just a moment of weakness. If she did it just _once_ , the punishment wouldn't be too tough. But it had to be a place worth the risk, somewhere she had always dreamed of going, somewhere spectacular. She could not think of a single place to fit that description, but she could think of a feeling she would have given everything to feel, safe, loved, and known. A pair of blue eyes flashed into her mind.

“ _Natasha?”_

That wasn't even her real name. It was something her father called her once when she was three, after she’d told him that she wanted to become a ballet dancer so she could be famous in America. He had called her by that English-sounding nickname and told her she would be America's most talented dancer one day.

She thought about that room and those people, quite often. They seemed to think her powers were stronger than what they actually were. She couldn't even travel outside of her own timeline yet; she had only been able to be where she already somehow travelled, time-wise. Though she learnt how to do it a while after they brought her in.

And yet, they seemed focused on the idea of catching the Black Widow. And that woman seemed to know her, somehow. She saw in her eyes something that made her feel important, powerful, and acknowledged. Like that girl knew her, truly knew her. Not the Black Widow, not the Red Room's latest puppet, that woman knew _Natalia_. Or, well, Natasha.

She wanted to know how. She didn't know how much longer she had, how long she would be able to hang on for. She couldn't sleep most nights, she was losing strength along with muscle mass and she could feel herself getting progressively skinnier; she was giving up.

So what if she broke the rules just that one time? Whatever the punishment was going to be, it couldn't have been worse than being there for the rest of her life. 

Natalia closed her eyes and immediately a pair of piercing blue eyes appeared in her mind. She focused on that and used it. Her fingers tingled, it was working, somehow. She would travel not to a specific place or time, but to a person. She had never imagined something like that before, let alone actually done it. But there she was, ready to take that leap.

**[December 3rd, 2000 – New York City]**

Natalia opened her eyes after the jump and found herself at the top of a very high building. It was cold and she was only wearing standard-issue Red Room sleeping attire, joggers and a hoodie. She looked around to see if someone had noticed her appear out of thin air, but everyone seemed solely focus on the view ahead of them. She stepped forward and looked, too.

It was the top of the Chrysler Building, she could see New York City stretched out below as soft, cold flakes of snow were grazed her cheeks. She breathed deeply and filled her lungs with the open, fresh air of the evening. She felt free. She was outside, not on a mission, not running around being chased by an enemy, not sent to bring death and destruction, she was just _there_.

“Aren't you freezing?”

The voice came from her left. She looked to her side and saw a girl who had stopped looking at the city, and was instead checking out Natalia's outfit. 

Suddenly, Natalia knew why she was there. It was those same piercing blue eyes. It was _her_. But she was so young. She looked more relaxed and at ease than Natalia remembered her being the only other time she’d seen her. But something in those deep blue eyes was still sparkling, there was a glow of life tinged by a shadow made of sadness. Those eyes hid a story and Natalia couldn't wait to hear it. When the woman lifted an eyebrow, she realised she hadn't actually responded yet, so she shrugged and faked a smile.

“I forgot my coat on the plane and then I lost my luggage and my wallet.”

The girl snorted and barely refrained from laughing.

“Let's say I believe you're not some crazy woman running around in winter without a coat,” the girl spoke with more than a little bit of a skeptical expression on her face. “First time in New York, too?”

“Yeah. You're not from around here?”

She shook her head. “Chicago.” She gave a little nod along with the name. “How about we go get some coffee? It'll warm you up.”

Natalia hesitated for a moment. She had through space and time to be there, and it was probably going to be her only day away from the Red Room for a very long time. She could do whatever she wanted to. But that woman and her blue eyes were staring right at her and suddenly, she felt like there was no better way in the world to spend her time than this.

“Sure, I'd love to. Your treat, 'cause I lost my wallet.”

The woman laughed, offering a hand to her. “Deal. I'm Maria. Maria Hill.”

Natalia took the hand and shook it, but after that the girl didn't let go and instead pulled a little and raised an eyebrow at her. She hesitated again. But she already knew what she had to say.

“Natasha Romanoff. A pleasure to meet you.”

Maria smiled at her, “the pleasure's all mine.”

“So what's a Chicago girl doing in NYC?” Natalia asked as they stepped out of the building.

“Actually I'm just passing by. I'm headed to West Point in the morning.”

“Military, uh?”

“Yeah, just turned eighteen, I was done with high school, so I left home and enlisted.”

Eighteen. She was so young. And people died in the army. Natalia couldn't understand why someone would voluntarily partake in something like that, especially at such a young age.

“How come?” She tried to sound casual, despite feeling anything but.

Maria shrugged, looked down and started to walk towards a coffee shop she had already visited, just around the corner. They kept walking in silence for a while, Natalia didn't pressure her for an answer, but she didn't offer her an out either. If she wanted one, she could make that for herself.

“Chicago's my past. I need to trace this clear line between three days ago when I left and tomorrow when I go to West Point. It doesn't matter why I'm here, it only matters that I am. The past is in the past. Panta Rei and all that.”

“Everything flows,” Natalia echoed, “Heraclitus. _Everything changes and nothing remains still; you cannot step twice into the same stream._ ”

Maria smiled at her, looking sideways and catching her eyes. “You like Greek philosophers?” she asked as Natalia lost herself in that smile for a second. “We're constantly growing and changing. We're not the people we were ten, five or even one year ago. We adapt and what happens to us, it shapes us, but it's not meant to stick.”

“Yes. Good or bad, everything flows, everything passes, eventually, if you let it slip by, sometimes even if you try not to. Pessimists say the good vanish, optimists say the bad will eventually fade. It's a matter of perspective I guess.”

“And what's your perspective Natasha? Everything ends. Is it a good thing or a bad thing?”

She shrugged and averted her eyes, looking ahead. “Neither. It's a fact. There's no point in agonizing over what we cannot change, like the stream of time – Heraclitus meant it like that, didn't he? The truth is, good or bad, all things end. That _is_ frightening but there is also some kind of...solace, in that notion. We move forward.”

Maria held open the door of the coffee shop and then followed her inside. It was warmer and the line was short. They placed an order, Maria paid, and then they sat down together.

“So let's not talk about the past then.” Natalia agreed. “What's your plan for the future?”

“Well, I'm going to be in the army for a while,” Maria chuckled, took a sip and then looked down at the table. Her expression got serious for a second and Natalia could almost hear the the next unspoken line, 'I might not even have a future after that'. “What about you?”

“I work for the government,” she said the first thing she thought of that would effectively lead to her being able to silence any further questions with 'that's classified'. “Can't really tell you much more than that,” she added for good measure. It was the closest thing to the truth she could tell Maria, technically she worked for a government, albeit it wasn't the American one. And despite the fact that she'd been doubting for a while Bezukhov's actual alignment with or against the Russian government, she had no actual proof to back that up.

“Well, okay then. No talking of the past, no talking of work, no talking of plans for the future. Is there something we can talk about or should we just sit in silence?” Maria asked her, a smile played on her lips but she quickly hid it behind her coffee.

“Just-” she thought about it for a split second, then decided to just go with it, “ask me something you want to know about me.”

Maria arched an eyebrow and mulled over her words. “Where do you see yourself five years from now?” She asked, despite the previous not-talking-about-the-future agreement.

Natalia laughed, “what is this, a job interview?” She smirked at her. “I guess,” she shrugged, her smirk faded and she looked down, “I'll still be doing what I do now. Mine's not really a job you can quit,” she pretended to roll her eyes and chuckled a little to hide the knot she felt clenching her throat. “You?”

“Still in the army I guess. Possibly alive and not as some name on a wall.”

“You really know how to lift the mood, huh? My turn,” she nodded resolutely. “Are you a burger and fries or a salad and fruit kinda girl?”

Maria scoffed. “I'm a lasagna kinda girl, my grandma taught me how to make it and I've had some good feedback. I'll make it for you someday.”

“Sure, that sounds like fun. Your turn.”

They talked for a couple of hours, then they realized the coffee shop was closing so they got up and headed outside. Natalia offered to walk Maria to her hotel, which was quite close. She nodded and smiled and they started walking side by side.

“I have one last question,” Maria told her. “Can I have your number?”

What could she say to that? _Sure, but the number won't be activated for another three years?_ She just couldn't do it. Plus, the Red Room controlled her cellphone and giving her number to a woman who would work for S.H.I.E.L.D. in a couple of years wasn't a good idea.

“I'm not really allowed a personal number and I can't give you the government issued one,” she said in a regretful tone and added a sad smile for good measure.

Maria nodded and faked a smile. “Sure,” she whispered. It was clear she wasn't buying it.

“When are you coming back to New York?”

“Uhm, three months from now I’ll have my first couple of days leave. It's the first weekend of March, I can't really remember the exact date. I got a ride for Saturday morning, then back on Sunday after lunch. I think I might want to sleep in late on Sunday, but I don't have plans for Saturday.”

“First Saturday of March. I'll meet you at the coffee shop we just left.”

“Really?” Maria eyebrow rose skeptically. “Alright then, 7 o’clock. Don't be late.”

“I won't. And now it's time for my last question,” Natalia told her with a smirk as Maria stopped in front of her hotel entrance. “What is the thing you desire more than anything else in the world?”

Maria chuckled and averted her eyes, looking around them. “That's deep. Tell you what, if you actually show up in three months, I'll answer that question.”

She smiled down at Natalia and then stepped forward, lowered her head to kiss her on the cheek. Natalia had never been kissed like that, in such a sweet, soft, innocent way. She closed her eyes and something deep inside her chest ached at the thought that she could actually like this woman, not because she had to, not because she was being forced to, but for no planned reason at all. That young, closed off, stern eighteen year old girl had touched her heart in such a short time, in a way nobody else ever had before.

As Maria whispered a “goodbye, Natasha,” and smiled at her before walking inside the hotel, she knew she could never, ever see that girl again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought! Or feel free to contact me on [Tumblr](http://thetruthaboutlovecomesat3am.tumblr.com/)


	5. Drakov's Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 1998 - 2002: Natalia's early years in the Red Room  
>  |   
>  ○ → 2005 - 2006 : Natalia is involved in São Paulo's bomb and the Hospital Fire  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2006, December 3rd : Natalia jumps back to 2000 where she meets Maria Hill  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2007, March 8th : The Black Widow turns herself in to Maria Hill  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2007, March 9th : The Black Widow is captured and brought back to the Helicarrier

  


** [March 9th, 2007 – 100 miles North of Tomsk, Russia] **

“It's a simple plan. Kidnap the kid, ask for the ransom. Drakov is a very powerful man, he’ll give us what we're asking for.”

“That's it? He gives us the military plans you want and we're out?” Asked one of the agents who were supposed to travel with her.

Natalia was sure this went against everything they’d drilled into her brain since she was a kid. This wasn't in the name of something bigger and it wasn't to make their country better. This was a purely self-serving mission. And yet, she could do nothing but go along with the plan, unless she wanted one of her brain switches to be activated again. Until somebody got hurt, she could comply.

The men each placed a hand on one of her shoulders and waited. She looked at Bezukhov, standing right in front of her. He nodded and she jumped. 

Taking Drakov's daughter was easy for two armed and trained Red Room agents. Natalia stood back and waited for them to bring her to one of their safe houses. They were only a couple of days in the past, so they didn't know how the mission would actually turn out yet. It was the first time Bezukhov had put so much trust in her. It was particularly surprising since it hadn't been that long since the day she’d snuck out to New York. He had yet to mention the three seconds she had been missing, but she couldn't assume he didn't know about it, that was too dangerous a way to see things. She might have fooled herself into believing she could get away with it again, but she couldn’t quite risk it now.

The two agents called Drakov and asked for the files they wanted in exchange for his daughter, while Natalia was assigned the task of keeping her calm and avoiding unexpected twists.

“What is your name?” She asked.

The little girl was quiet for a very long time. The men told her that her father had sent them to protect her and keep her safe. Whether she believed that they were her father's allies or somehow knew that they’d kidnapped her, she was aware that they probably already knew her name and asking for it was only to test the water.

“Dominika.”

“That is a lovely name. How old are you?”

“I'm seven years old. You already know this stuff, don't you?”

“You’re very smart for your age.”

The girl didn't respond. Silence fell over the room and Natalia thought it was probably best to leave it at that for the time being.

“Are you going to kill me?” She asked, almost startling Natalia.

“No. I will keep you safe,” she promised with a smile, “I’ll make sure you get home safe and sound by the end of the day.”

“Alright,” the kid nodded while looking up at Natalia with her bright brown eyes. “When can I talk to my dad?”

“Soon, I promise. Really soon.”

They waited the whole day for the meeting to be arranged. Once Drakov agreed to the exchange, the two agents went without her and retrieved the data, as Natalia and Dominika waited in the safe house.

They had chosen to go back in time to just a couple of days before, because they knew exactly what Dominika's schedule was going to be. But that also meant that the outcome was uncertain, because no information concerning the politician's daughter being kidnapped had been leaked in their present. They just knew Dominika had been missing and they knew when she disappeared, so they made sure the Red Room was behind it, but nothing else was known; it was a risk. Those plans must have been worth a lot to Bezukhov, Natalia knew that much.

“He mailed the external hardware to the address we gave him. Now we'll go back to the present, then you will jump there, take those files and disappear again. They won't know what happened,” one of the agents told Natalia.

“Okay. So we're done here?”

“Yes.”

“I'll take her home and jump back.”

He scoffed, “take her home? She’s not going home,” he grabbed and loaded his gun. “Bezukhov's orders.”

Before Natalia could do anything, two bullets were shot into Dominika's chest. The noise rang in her ears for a lot longer than the sound itself pervaded the air. .

It was like suddenly a switch had been flicked somewhere, as though the last string connecting her to life snapped in half. She didn't care if she died right then, she couldn't be their puppet anymore. In a fraction of second she disarmed him, shot him between the eyes and, when his partner came into the room after hearing the extra shot, she killed him instantly as well. Then, she knelt down next to Dominika and pressed her hands to the girl's chest. She was gasping for air and there were tears streaming down her cheeks; Drakov's daughter died in Natalia's arms. A part of herself died in that moment, too.

  
  


She jumped back to the present, right in front of Bezukhov, not even half a minute later than the moment she had left. She touched his chest while aiming the gun at his forehead and fired. He dropped dead as they reached the same room Dominika died in. His blood covered the front of her field suit and some of it even tainted her hair. She threw the gun on the floor next to his corpse. No more red on her ledger, she told herself; no more innocents dying in front of her; no more.

She jumped to the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility she had been held in five years before, the one with the cage which could restrain her power, and asked Maria Hill to bring her back, knowing she would lock her up; it didn't matter. As long as she wasn't responsible for a seven years old girl being murdered in cold blood ever again.

  
  


**[March 9th, 2007 – S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, location classified]**

Maria had been staring at the monitor for half an hour, but their prisoner had done nothing beside sit in silence and stare at her hands. She was curled up on the floor with her knees held to her chest and her palms resting on top of them. She looked lost and far too young to be that haunted.

Maria had always known Natasha had her issues. A past she never wanted to discuss. But whatever happened that day was what changed her from the girl she had met the day before to the woman she had known for a while.

She got up from her chair in front of the monitor and picked up the Black Widow file from the desk she was sitting at. She entered the lab and sat down at Simmons' desk, picking up a pen and checking to see if the audio and video feed from the Web was being recorded. Once she checked everything was in order, she opened the file and clicked on the pen, finally looking at Natasha. Piercing green eyes were staring right at her.

“Please state your name for the record,” she said, her pen hovering above the paper.

“You alr-”

“Please, state your name.”

Natasha bit her lip and held back the comeback that was already on the tip of her tongue, instead, she looked up at one of the cameras recording.

“Natalia Alianova Romanova.”

Maria paused, the tip of the pen already scratching across the paper. Her hand trembled and she decided it would be best to put the pen down for the time being. She intertwined her fingers, resting her elbows on the desk. Then she looked at the woman inside the cage and waited in silence.

“Is that my file?”

Maria didn't answer.

“What does it say?”

Silence.

“Were you the one who wrote it?”

She picked up the pen again and wrote the name, showing no sign of having heard Natalia's questions.

“Please state your date of birth.”

“1984\. I have no idea what day or month.”

Maria lowered the pen again as a shaky breath left her lips, as she tried to make sense of everything that was happening. She wrote the year in the file, then paused again. It was all so pointless.

“Why did you surrender?”

“I thought since you built all this for me,” she gestured around, “it was a shame to let it all go to waste.” She smirked and looked at Maria again.

Maria clicked on the pen, laid it down, closed the file and then got up.

_That was easy_ , Natalia thought. Maria Hill gave up quickly.

“Let's make this very, very easy,” Maria's voice was calm and even as she approached the glass separating them. “Have you noticed how this lab is empty? Or how they sent in not an Agent, not an Handler, but a Commander, to take your personal data?” As she spoke, Natalia's smirk slowly faded. “They're scared of you. They think this is a trap and you're going to murder us all. Not the scientists who built the cage, they're confident it'll hold you just fine. Everyone else though, is _terrified_ of you. You're the Devil's Keeper. The Black Widow. Your reputation precedes you, the havoc you will wreck on the world – or, actually did wreck on the world, I'm not sure which is the right tense, is in this case – and is well known by everyone here.”

Natalia got up slowly and walked almost casually towards where Maria was standing.

“There are sightings of you all throughout history; the day Rome burnt down, Homer wrote about a woman starting wars and some speculate it was you. The assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand that led to World War One. I could go on for days. There is also some legends about how you seduced the Devil and spent the better part of your life protecting Him from the wrath of humankind.”

“That's preposterous,” she smirked, “the Devil is a She, everybody knows that.”

“Why,” she tried again, “did you surrender?” Maria asked, drawing out every word.

“I was getting bored of all the brainwashing and torture and I thought that, well, even if I died trying to escape at least I wouldn't be that powerless anymore.” The answer came in a casual manner, almost as if she was shrugging it off.

Maria blinked, her lips slightly parting. Her mouth twitched at the corner, like she was holding back the ' _I'm so sorry_ ' that rose up from her heart and got caught up on her tongue.

“Why surrender _now_ then, why not just escape? Your power is limitless.”

“What are you talking about?” Natalia asked a little harshly, showing signs of an emotion other than indifference for the first time and taking a step forward. “My power has _a lot_ of limits. That woman who jumped back thousands of years into the past? It's not me. I can't even jump out of my own life span. I can't go back before 1984, that's how I know I was born then,” she chuckled ironically. “Whoever you're looking for, either I'm not her, or I'm not her _yet_.”

Maria stood there silently, neither one of them wanted to break eye contact first. Both were looking for something in the other, despite being drastically different things.

“What I can't understand,” Maria tried to explain, “is that you have this amazing power and you seem like a decent person to me. You turned yourself in, knowing what awaited here. You could not only avoid the things you allegedly did, but also help so many people, if you were willing to use this power for good.”

“Don't you understand? I can't change the past. Whatever I did, it has already happened, or the world wouldn't be this way. Even if I was the one who went back that far, the things I did are set in stone. They already were; the past has already happened.” Her voice was stern and strong. She was sure of what she was talking about.

“You are the one person who could change it, Natasha.”

Maria bit her cheek hard as soon as she realized that name slipped from her lips. She looked down, then up again.

“It doesn't work like that. Whatever happened to cause those events, will happen to me eventually. There is nothing we can do to change that,” she resumed her neutral, almost indifferent tone.

Maria shook her head. “You haven’t done it yet. There is still time to be sure you never do.”

“Well, if you shoot me between the eyes right now, sure,” she laughed bitterly. “The fabric of space and time will tear itself apart and the world will be swallowed into nothingness. But otherwise? The past can't be changed unless you want to destroy the universe.”

“So what?” Maria asked in a condescending tone, “I just stand here and watch you become the Devil's Keeper? I can't do that,” she stated firmly. “The past might be unchangeable, but the present isn't, the future, _your_ future, isn't. There is still time.”

“You still don't get it,” Natalia murmured. “In my case, my future _is_ the past, and therefore it’s set in stone, because what I will do has already affected history. The world wouldn't be the same if we changed that. We could turn the Earth into a black void. There is _nothing_ that can be done.”

“There has to be something-”

“Do you think I want things to be _this way_?” Natalia's voice grew harsh again and louder than before. “Do you think I like this?” She scoffed, “but I know it's unavoidable. I know something will turn me into the woman from those legends. I know I am a monster and I will become a bigger monster somehow. _There is nothing to be done_. I’ve made my peace with it. Please, find a way to do so as well.”

Maria looked at her for a long moment, before nodding and lowering her gaze to the file she held. She opened it and took a picture from inside it. She stepped towards the glass wall and turned the picture, pressing it against the glass for Natalia to see. It was the photograph of a little girl with bright brown eyes, smiling. Natalia knew who she was, she had the feeling she would never forget her.

“Tell me about her,” Maria's voice was softer, for some reason.

“I had no choice” Natalia whispered. “When I figured out what they were going to do, it was already too late. I had no choice.”

“They found the bodies this morning. The data has been retrieved safely, by the way. The kidnappers never claimed it. Tell me what happened.”

Natalia took a deep breath. She had asked for this, she had asked to be contained, and she knew questions would inevitably come with the rest.

“We knew her schedule for the day, I went back with two other agents, they kidnapped her and made the deal.”

“Why not you?”

“Bezukhov stopped trusting me. Lately, I refused missions and he had to either trigger me so I would do them anyway or torture me so I wouldn't say no next time. It wasn't supposed to go this way, we were supposed to return her safely, that's what they told me; but after the data was delivered, one of the agents shot her. I killed both of them and then Bezukhov. It was only a matter of time before Red Room found out and they decided to execute me, I figured this was my best shot. Even if they didn't end up killing me, I'd rather stay in this cage than be an accomplice to the murder of another innocent child; she was seven years old.”

Maria lowered the picture and put it back inside the file.

“Was it her blood you were covered in when you asked for our help?”

“Yes. Hers and Bezukhov's. I tried to stop the bleeding but,” she paused and averted her eyes. “There was nothing to be done.”

“You keep saying that. That there's nothing to be done,” Maria noticed.

“It's true.”

“Is it? What if there was?” Maria pondered. “Dominika Drakov told the Russian police a woman who could time travel saved her life, she was returned home two days ago without a scratch. There is always something that can be done.”

Natalia's eyes immediately searched Maria's again. She frowned.

“That isn't possible. She was dead. She died in my arms, I stayed with her.”

Maria's lips twitched as she tried not to smile. “Apparently, there was something that could be done, after all. I don't know how or when you’ll do it, but you will find a way to save her. It's not too late to change the future and, since your future is also the past, it's not too late to change that either,” she told her with a kindness that Natalia had never heard her use before, “all I'm asking of you is to let S.H.I.E.L.D. help you.”

“Well, just keep me in this cage with these handcuffs and I won't be able to time travel. All solved, right?” Natalia crossed her arms in a defensive manner.

Maria sighed and smiled bitterly, but she knew that nothing she could say would convince her; she had to take action.

“As you wish, Romanova.”

“What, no more Natasha?” She asked, feigning shock in a mocking voice.

“That isn't your name,” Maria stated simply, “you're not that person. I won't make that mistake again,” she reassured her in a stern, decisive tone.

Maria turned on her heel and headed for the lab door. She stopped a couple of feet from it, turning around again to see Natalia still staring at her.

“November 22nd.”

Natalia just shot her a confused look and frowned.

“November 22nd, 1984. Your birthday.”

“How do you know that?”

Maria shrugged and looked at her again. “If you ever find out that it isn't really this one, please let an Agent know so they will update the file. I’ve written it down for now, since I thought it was this one.”

“Why can't I just tell _you_ if I find out it's wrong?”

Maria looked away again, that was her way of letting her know she wasn't going to get an answer to that question.

“Are you trying to encourage me to change my future – your past – because this way whatever I did to you, won't happen?”

Maria chuckled lightly, then looked back at her one last time, “I'm encouraging you to change it despite the fact that will change, too. Goodbye, Romanova.” She turned again and went straight for the lab door. Natalia watched her walk away, wondering if she could still make it to that date even if she’d told herself she should never go back to Maria.

  
  


Fury marched into the briefing room to see Carter, Barton, Coulson, May and Morse were waiting for him.

“Would someone care to explain this to me?” He let an envelope fall on the table without even greeting those present. “Carter, for example?”

She peeked at the envelope, “I think it's a letter addressed to you, sir.”

“It's Commander Hill's letter of resignation. She is nowhere to be found and this was on my desk when I walked in a few minutes ago. Fitz-Simmons are currently trying to locate her, she vanished not even an hour after her conversation with Black Widow.”

As though on-cue, Fury's phone started ringing. he checked the caller ID and then answered.

“Simmons, you're on speaker.”

“Sir, we recovered the footage from the carrier, she took off with a Quinjet on her own. We also checked her computer, she printed some files just before taking off,” she paused after that, and they all pictured her hesitating and fidgeting. “Sir, she took the maps with the Red Room's facilities we registered, the ones where the time jumps from the past year were originating from. She appears to be going after the people who were holding the Black Widow captive, alone.”

Fury cursed and felt a headache beginning to rise. Things were about to get a hell of a lot messier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope there's someone reading this, I feel like posting this story it's like shouting into the void most of the time.
> 
> If you want, let me know what you thought!


	6. She Used To Be Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 1998 - 2002: Natalia's early years in the Red Room  
> |  
> ○ → 2005 - 2006 : Natalia is involved in São Paulo's bomb and the Hospital Fire  
> |  
> ○ → 2006, December 3rd : Natalia jumps back to 2000 where she meets Maria Hill  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 6th - 8th : Unfolding of the events involving Drakov's daughter  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 8th : The Black Widow turns herself in to Maria Hill  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 9th : The Black Widow is captured and brought back to the Helicarrier

**[March 10th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Melinda May had been trying to get in contact with the stolen Helicarrier via radio for the better part of an hour, and she was starting to think it was pointless.

“Agent Hill, this is Agent May, do you copy?”

She waited patiently for a response. Again, nothing.

“Agent Hill, this is Agent May, do you copy?”

There had to be a better way to achieve the result she was hoping for. Fury ordered her to get in touch with Hill through the comms, but she hadn't been answering and there was no sign to indicate she might start anytime soon.Maybe if she told her Sharon or Phil was in danger, she would finally answer. Not that Hill wouldn't have risked her life to save Melinda, Bobbi or even Clint. But she actually seemed to mind less if she was sharing personal information with the former two. They were friends, on a level where they not only trusted each other – they all trusted each other – but also valued the other's opinions and advice. 

But then again, there were those times where Maria and herself could understand one another without having to speak a single word, a glance could say it all. So maybe it was just that they had a different way of showing they cared about each other.

“Agent Hill, this is Agent May, do you copy?”

Still, no answer.

“Maria, pick up the damn radio or when I see you again, and don't fool yourself I _will_ see you again when we come save your reckless ass, I will shove it right up your-”

“Please, don't finish that sentence.”

“Did your brain short circuit or something Hill? You stole a _plane_ , from _S.H.I.E.L.D_., and you're flying it to Russia, aren't you?”

“I have to do this, Melinda.”

“Like hell you do. We can request proper equipment, a squad, and possibly even some backup. We’ll make an actual plan and then take down those facilities together,” she tried to reason.

“You know as well as I do that it would take days, maybe even weeks. They've just lost their best asset and someone pretty high up their ranks. They're probably going to abandon a lot of those buildings and we'll lose track on a lot of those assholes if we wait too long.”

“So you're just going to go there with no plan, limited ammo, and without knowing what you'll find inside? Maria, you're gonna get yourself killed and for what, twenty more bad guys in prison? Think about this rationally.”

“I think it's clear at this point that I'm incapable of doing that with this case. That's why I strongly advised Fury to put you in charge of this op in my letter.”

That made May pause. “You're not planning to come back.”

There was a long pause from the other end of the line.

“I know I might not.”

Melinda just stood silent and thought about what Maria was actually telling her. She was ready to sacrifice herself, to give her life for that mission, for that woman. She was on a rampage to single handedly kill everyone who had been an accomplice in her capture.

“Who was she to you?” May asked over the comm in a whisper.

Maria didn't answer, she couldn't, because when she heard that question she knew there was only one possible answer that would fit.

_She was mine._

Maria kept driving the Quinjet and they stayed silent for a long time.

“We all joined S.H.I.E.L.D. at different times, for different reasons, but you know what the one thing we all have in common is, May? We are all ready to die for the cause. We're ready to give our lives to protect others, to be the shield between the innocents and the bad guys. If there is one chance, in a hundred thousand billion, that this might change something, I'm ready to give my life for the cause.”

“What cause?”

“To keep her good.”

May frowned, “what if she was never good? You know the story better than I do, Maria.”

“Talk to her and listen to her for even ten minutes and you'll see what I mean. All of you will understand this someday, until then, trust me. And try to keep her in line. Goodbye, May.”

The radio made a crackling sound, then nothing more.

Sharon stormed into the lab, Simmons, Fitz and Morse had resumed their tests so it wasn't as empty as the day before, but it wasn't crowded either. She headed straight for the Web Thread.

“What did you tell her to do?” Sharon's voice was harsh, and it caught not only Natalia's, but the scientists' attention as well.

“Excuse me?”

“What did you ask her to do for you?” Sharon persisted.

Natalia only stared at her in confusion, “who are we talking about, exactly?”

“Maria. Don't tell me you don't know what she's planning,” her hands fell on her hips as she assumed a pose that reminded Natalia a lot of Hill.

“I talked to her a few hours ago, yes. It's all recorded, you can check, I didn't ask for anything from her.”

Sharon laughed bitterly, “so she just relinquished a Quinjet and our maps of the Red Room because she was bored?”

Natalia frowned and walked towards the glass slowly, “she's going after the Red Room? What kind of back-up does she have?”

Sharon seemed convinced that she wasn't pretending, because her shoulders slumped down and she sighed at Natalia's reaction.

“She doesn't,” Sharon admitted with a defeated tone. “She can't go back in time and prevent them from doing whatever they did to you, she doesn't have your power. But she can make sure they pay for what they did,” Carter explained.

“I thought she was smart.”

“She's doing this for you. You’re valuable to her,” May said as she walked into the room, slowly approaching the glass and standing a few feet away from Sharon.

Natalia scoffed and chuckled a little, “we met once. That woman gets attached too easily. She seemed cold and smart. I guess she's neither of those. She is going to get herself killed.”

“You don't understand what rescuing you costs us, do you?” Bobbi stepped in, “we were wearing S.H.I.E.L.D.'s issued field suits, they know who we work for. They know we somehow managed to retrieve their greatest asset from right under their noses. They must know that you not only co-operated, but helped out.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Red Room,” May explained curtly, “we're at war. Yesterday was basically a war declaration on our part.”

“This is what you meant to her,” Sharon told her, “she started a war to save you. And she's ready to end it on her own so she doesn't risk our lives; yours included.”

“She can't. The Red Room isn't that easy to take down. They'll kill her soon enough,” despite her features remaining still and her voice steady and even, something in her eyes shifted. If Sharon didn't know any better, she would have said Natalia almost looked worried.

“It won't stop her from trying,” Carter said.

Natalia wanted to offer to travel and help her get out of there alive, but they probably had no idea where she was headed; they had the locations of at least thirteen active Red Room facilities and she could be going to any of them. But even if they did know where she was going, the chances that they would let Natalia free so she could jump, were very, very low, if not non-existent. It wasn't a matter of how she could help, but a matter of how much freedom they were willing to give her in order to get Maria Hill back.

“How will you let me help?” She settled on asking.

“Well,” Carter sighed, “I'm really glad you asked.”

  
  


**[March 10th, 2007 – Stolen Quinjet]**

Maria had been raised with the notion that the Black Widow was the root of everything rotten and evil in the world.

Every time someone on the street whispered that name, or another alias of hers, Maria's father would get erratic and angry. Well, angrier than he usually was.

It was on a day she spent with her grandmother from her departed mother's side of the family, when she finally mustered up the courage to ask the one question that had been playing in her mind like an unstoppable mantra, “who’s the Black Widow?”

Her grandma sat her down, took out an old photo album and started going through the pages. Her mother in her youth had been one of the most beautiful women Maria had ever seen in her life. She had black hair and blue eyes, just like hers, her features were similar too, but in her older years Maria would admit to herself that her mom's face was gentler, and her smile softer. She had known kindness and love in a way Maria never had in her own childhood, in a way she was convinced she never would.

“Your mom,” her grandma told her, “had a gift. She knew things that had not happened yet. She had the Sight.”

Her grandma was the one to explain to her how Inhumans were discriminated against in every aspect of life, how for a decade, in the Sixties, they were killed on sight. After the end of the War some Slovakian scientists discovered some citizens with special powers, apparently formed in the fog of the war. They had no idea how accurate the statement was.

In her older years, after learning what Terrigen was and how the Mist worked, Maria figured out that some of that had probably been included accidentally in one of the bombs dropped on Eastern Europe during the war. Hence, the rising number of Inhumans that led to their public discovery by all who had not yet known of their kind. Immediately after began speculations surrounding the Devil's Keeper, and what kind she had to be, in order to possess those kind of powers. Discrimination against their whole kind swiftly followed, as though knowing that one of them, in all of recorded history, was a bad person, had to mean that they all were.

Over time, Maria came to the conclusion that her mother had probably known she would die the day Maria was born. That thought haunted her. She had loved her unborn child so greatly, that she chose to sacrifice her own life for Maria to have one.

Her mother had lived her life in the shadows, never speaking about her gift to anybody aside from her parents and her husband. It was during her seventh month of pregnancy, when she wrote a letter that she gave to Maria's grandmother to pass on once Maria was old enough. Her grandma died when she was fourteen and Maria had found the letter almost by accident.

“ _I have seen your life, sweet baby of mine, I have been there beside you as it happened. The greatest adventures await you and the greatest sorrows, too. You're meant to save our kind, redeem our name and be our keeper. You will see hope where others saw death, my love, you will see the angel within the devil._ ”

She used to believe her mother's words when she was fourteen, alone, sent to a group home after her grandmother, her legal guardian at the time, died. She used to believe a better life was ahead of her. That life never came. When she was eighteen, she was convinced her mother was slightly crazy and her grandmother had humoured her and those so-called visions. There was no better life. There was nothing waiting for her. She kept reminding herself of that the day she joined the army. Eventually, the day came when she discovered Natasha was the Black Widow.

She felt her heart sank when she told her they only saw each other once. Maria remembered that first encounter well. That under-dressed stranger on top of the Chrysler Building who’d left a seed in her heart. Maria watered it, cared for it and kept it in safe in part of her soul. And that seed grew and grew until the day they saw each other again. Because even though Maria remembered that first encounter well, she also remembered a lot more than that.

She was highly aware that changing Natasha's- _Natalia's,_ future, could also erase their past. But it was a sacrifice she had to make if it meant saving the Inhumans. People with powers weren't allowed in the military, they were discriminated against in a lot of fields and some of them couldn't hide even if they wanted to, because their appearances made it clear that they were Inhuman.All Maria wanted was to make sure nobody else died simply because they had powers. Her own mother could have been killed if she hadn't been careful enough, it wasn't right; she had to try and change the way things were, it was her duty.

It wasn't to say she wasn't furious at Natasha for lying to her. A part of her was convinced she had been actually played and that the Natasha she’d met had already turned into the Black Widow, and that it was all merely a deception so Maria wouldn't kill her as soon as she found out that part of her identity. She was hurt, angry and disappointed, but she couldn't make it a personal matter. She had to push through the pain and try to change things while she could.

And what if her mother was right? What if it was Maria's duty to seek redemption?

_You will see hope where others saw death._

She had to believe that, if her mother really saw the future and still encouraged her towards the path of hope, she actually stood a chance. Besides, she had never been one to give up without trying her best.

Maria had little left to lose. She had resigned from her job because she was not unable to be objective, and she had been assigned as the leader of an entire operation, probably one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s biggest ever, purely because of her personal history. She had no family, few friends, and she had long since lost the love of her life. Her memories were the only thing she had left, along with her own life. But to change the world, she was willing to sacrifice both. To save an entire race? To change the prejudices faced by Inhumans? It was worth it, it was a small sacrifice. She was a soldier and soldiers know the rule of numbers, according to which, one life ought to be given to if it will save countless. As she lowered the Quinjet a few miles away from the Red Room facility near Samara, she was ready to do just that.

It wouldn't be until years later that she would finally understand what Natasha meant when she told her the future can't be changed if it affects the past. Whatever they might have done, things would always unfold in such a way that would make them act in the manner that would shape the world exactly as they knew it. The past already was, there was no way of changing it. The world was exactly as the Black Widow shaped it with her travels to the past. It had all already happened a long time before.

  
  


**[March 10th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

“Fury’s agreed to assign three teams to this,” Carter told Natalia as she came back. “So counting out Tomsk, which we already swiped clean, there are twelve other active facilities that Maria might have gone after. Did you decide which ones we should head to first?” She crossed her arms on her chest, waiting impatiently; but Natalia's eyes were stuck to the computer screen on the wall.

“She's probably heading for smaller ones. She's stupid but not suicidal, right?” The redhead murmured.

“Would do please stop insulting her?” Bobbi asked her resolutely, “he's our friend.”

“Your friend is stupid.”

“She's doing this to avenge you,” the Scottish scientist, Fitz if she remembered correctly, told her in a barely audible voice.

“Nobody asked her to,” Natalia said decisively.

“There was no need,” Sharon pointed out. “What would you do if you lost everything and wanted to prove to someone that they mattered?”

“I know what I _wouldn't_ do. I wouldn't go on a suicidal rampage alone, for one,” Natalia said, still assertive but without showing any kind of emotion about the situation that wasn't the same one she had shown until then, annoyance.

“You and Hill literally started a war between S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Red Room because a kid almost died,” May, the one that rarely spoke, said. “You went on a suicidal rampage against your own handlers, for that child. You're both protecting someone who has nobody in their corner. You're not that different, if you ask me.”

“I do not need, nor want, protection.” Natalia sighed in annoyance.

“She doesn't care if you need it, she knows she can offer it to you; you’re valuable to her.” Carter told her, then pointed at the map. “So, which ones?”

“You keep saying that. But I only met her _once_ outside of S.H.I.E.L.D.-related matters,” the Black Widow countered.

Carter spun around and stepped closer to the glass, giving her a hard stare. “Did you? Are you absolutely sure about that?” Her voice was strongly sarcastic and Natalia's only response was an arched eyebrow. “Let's say, hypothetically, you met her more than once, humour me, let's say you meant something to her, perhaps she even regarded you as a trusted friend as you deceived her. As you lied and lied and stabbed her in the back. And still, she's gone, still, she’s trying to make sure that these assholes don't come for you.”

“You people still don’t seem to understand how this works. You can't change what I’ve done, it’s in the past, I’ve already done it, even if I actually haven’t _yet,_ ” she tried to explain.

“We do understand that,” the English doctor stepped in, Simmons, was it? “Regardless, she's willing to give up her life, and her memories, for this. We know she can't change the past, but she thinks she could and that doing so might take away a fundamental part of her past, and that hasn't stopped her. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

Natalia held her gaze for a few seconds, then nodded. “She's willing to sacrifice any amount of herself on the off-chance that it might save me on some level.”

“You meant something to her,” Carter repeated, “and honestly, if I were you, I'd want to keep her alive at least until you find out what she meant to you.”

Natalia clenched her jaw for a second, then resumed her neutral expression. Why did those people have to make her care? Things didn't have to be that complicated.

“I'm already helping, aren't I?” She pointed out, “as I was saying, she's probably going for the smaller ones. But if we go for them as well and miss her, she might head for a bigger one where she'd be even more likely to get herself killed.”

“So we could strike the bigger ones first, to sort of compliment her work and help her out?. But we wouldn't be actually rescuing her then, would we?” Bobbi pointed out.

“Maria Hill needs no rescue,” Carter told them. “So, where do we start?”

“Moscow, Saint Petersburg and Ufa are the biggest ones,” Natalia told them, “I can recreate some maps from memory, they won't be perfect but they should be accurate enough. The problem is that time is our enemy in this case, you have to take a chance and strike soon even if your plan isn't perfect. She won't be waiting around.”

As if on cue, Clint and Phil entered the lab with anxious expressions on their faces.

“We just got out of a meeting with Fury,” Phil told them. “The Red Room's facility near Samara was taken down this morning. Someone disguised as a Red Room agent planted explosives throughout the building and blew it up.”

“Maria?” May asked.

The two men nodded.

“We've gotta hurry up,” Carter stated, turning towards Fitz-Simmons, “get the Black Widow something she can draw the maps on. We need them as soon as possible.”

Natalia tried not to over-think everything that was happening and focus on the task at hand, but a nagging thought kept creeping through, even as she tried to keep herself centered.

She knew three things to be true. One, Maria Hill was going on a mission to single-handedly end the Red Room. Two, she meant something to Maria; she was valuable enough to Hill that she was willing to put her life on the line. And three, Maria and Sharon Carter were close. Natalia didn't know how close. They appeared to be more than acquaintances. But how much more? Were they friends, partners, lovers? Were they in love? She strongly doubted their relationship was anything other than platonic. They seemed to care deeply for each other in a sisterly manner, but she hadn't seen them interacting enough to know for sure what the actual nature of their relationship was. But she knew they were close, really close.

_Then why aren't we going through every facility at once, blasting guns and taking names?_

Carter was organizing three teams. Natalia strongly doubted that, if pushed hard enough, Nicholas Fury would have granted at least six. Was Maria that good or was she that expendable?

“ _Maria Hill needs no rescue,_ ” Carter said before.

Were these people so clueless about what they were dealing with, or was Maria Hill that fierce and fearless? She could understand why everyone else wanted to organise properly and fight when they were completely ready, if Maria was just a soldier to them. But why was Carter not in the least concerned about her?

“Are you okay?”

Melinda May's voice brought her back to the maps in front of her.

“Yes,” she said, resuming drawing.

“If you want to know something, just ask.”

Natalia actually stopped to look at her skeptically. “Are you Maria Hill's friend?”

“Yes.”

“Is Sharon Carter her friend? Is she her lover?”

May looked like she was doing her best to keep a neutral expression and not laugh at her. “They're like sisters from what I've seen.”

“Then why aren't you rescuing her? Why not take the chance to save her, no matter how small?”

“I'm not in charge of that, Carter is. I won't question my orders. Besides, I'm in charge of you until Hill returns and that's a big enough responsibility without adding anything else that might go FUBAR incredibly fast.”

“In charge of me? Officially or by her request?”

“Does it matter? Would it mean more to you if this was her choice?”

Natalia choked down the bitter comeback and just looked back down at her maps.

“You met her once,” May stated, making her look up again, “so you keep telling us. Then why do you care?”

“I don't,” she responded too quickly, “I just wish to have a debt paid. She owns me an answer and a lasagna.”

May almost smiled, “that's not an excessive price to have the Devil's Keeper come to your personal rescue.”

_But we're not rescuing her yet_ , Natalia thought.

Instead of replying, she pointed to the charts, “I'm done with the first, if you want to alert Carter.”

May nodded and turned around, then stopped again. “You know what's weird? You're called the Devil's Keeper. Yet, she's the one who's going through all this trouble to _keep_ you good.”

Natalia's eyes darkened immediately,.“I haven't been good for a very long time,” she whispered, her voice full of sorrow and loss, “I don't think I'll ever be again. My ledger is dripping with red.”

“Maybe,” May conceded, walking towards the door, “but you've got all the time in the world to atone. Quite literally.”

Natalia watched her walk away and was left wondering how one single woman had managed to convince, in two days, an entire espionage organisation that, despite all the proof scattered across history that she was evil, that she was actually a decent person. Especially when she wasn't even confident of that herself.

“Alright,” Bobbi's voice distracted her, “team alpha is starting to study the maps you sent, they’re leaving in the Helicarrier at first light. Do you think you'll have something for team beta and gamma as well?”

Natalia looked at her and nodded, starting on the second electronic chart.

“I'll leave you to it, then. Whatever you need, let me or Fitz-Simmons know.”

Again, Natalia nodded without saying a single word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think of the summaries? Useful, useless, should I stop making them or shall I keep them? Let me know! And if you want let me know what you thought about this chapter!


	7. The Little One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 1998 - 2007: Natalia's years in the Red Room; São Paulo, Hospital Fire, Drakov's daughter  
>  |   
>  ○ → 2006, December 3rd : Natalia jumps back to 2000 where she meets Maria Hill  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2007, March 8th : The Black Widow turns herself in to Maria Hill  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2007, March 9th : The Black Widow is captured and brought back to the Helicarrier  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2007, March 10th : Maria Hill steels a Quinjet and heads to one of the Red Room's facilities

  


**[March 11th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Natalia had never been one to sleep very much, but lately she had even less than usual. She preferred not to dwell on things too much, it was never good and often led to erratic decisions made on the verge of uncertainty. Yet, ever since she surrendered to S.H.I.E.L.D. so they could lock her up, there was a small detail she wasn't able to get out of her mind, the way Maria had looked at her; the hurt in her eyes, and beyond that, something Natalia wasn't even able to recognize. She only knew nobody else had ever looked at her that way.

She had spent a lot of her time in silence, those two days on the Helicarrier. Scientists and doctors would check on her. and do their research without paying much attention to her. She handled the maps and the few people brave enough to talk to her, then they all left to take on the facilities she pointed out. As far as she knew, Phil Coulson, Bobbi Morse and Clint Barton were leading the teams. She didn't ask herself why they were so comfortable letting her know their full, real names. It was far too easy to explain; she was never going to get too far from that cage ever again.

She didn't mind. That was what she asked for in demanding that they arrested her.

“Black Widow?”

She lifted her head in the direction of the doctor with the English accent.

“I'm sorry, you weren't responding and I didn't know how I should address you, I didn't want to overstep by using your first name.”

“It's fine. Did I space out?”

Simmons nodded, “I asked if you’re okay.”

Natalia shrugged. “If something goes wrong Fury and Carter will blame me, won't they?”

“Those are highly trained operatives, why would anything go wrong?”

“Because the guys on the other side are highly trained operatives, too.”

Simmons nodded again, then opened a map showing Red Room facilities on the big screen fixed to the wall.

“Why don't we see if we can pick the next ones they should head for?” Jemma proposed,  “it would be helpful. You can draw the maps again and they can try to get to Hill tomorrow.”

Natalia sighed, but eventually she nodded and got up.

“So, ruling out the three they're currently at and the two Maria has already taken out, that leaves us with another seven.”

“Two?” Natalia asked.

“Yes. She headed to Perm and got into the facility during the night. the Russian police got a call, headed over there and found them all restrained, next to tonnes of files with the details of their illegal local activities. They'll all be locked up for a long time.”

“No bombs, this time?”

“They were almost all tech guys there, weren't they? She was met with almost no resistance, she took care of it quickly and neatly.”

Natalia had to admit she was impressed. She expected a reason why a twenty-six year old was a Commander and trusted with being in charge of some incredibly high profile missions, but she didn't think it would be this obvious that she absolutely belonged there.

“And this morning, where is she headed?”

“I was hoping you would tell us that.”

Natalia looked at the maps and thought about it for a moment.

“She might be headed for Ekaterinburg, that's close to Perm, so she might’ve headed over right after she wrapped up there. Depending on her injuries and how much sleep she needs before going back in again, she might strike in a few hours.”

“I'll tell Carter right away.”

“They won't make it in time, but they can intercept her in Novosibirsk if they hurry up, it's a couple of hours flight from there. If I'm right, that’s where she's going to be tomorrow.”

“That's really helpful. Thank you.”

The scientist left before she could say anything else. She kept staring at the maps, trying to figure out another pattern or another way she could help. A nagging voice in her brain kept reminding her that it wasn't her job, that she could just sit back until they tortured her for information. But another, stronger voice, was telling her that if she wanted to actually wipe away some red, this was as good a place as any other to start.

When Simmons came back, almost an hour later, she wasn't alone. Carter and May walked in with her, making not only Natalia but also Fitz raise their eyes. “She's already done in Ekaterinburg,” Carter told her, “Interpol just finished wrapping up. Apparently this facility was inside the city, so she made a lot of noise after alerting the feds about a threat to international security. Same as Perm, a lot of incriminating files, scientists working there were incapacitated and nobody was killed; at least not by Maria.”

“She's headed for Novosibirsk next,” Natalia told them confidently.

“We won't make it there in time, not from here, and all the assigned teams are still on the field,” May explained.

Natalia looked at the screen again, Maria was probably going to change area after the third strike, at least if she didn't want to get caught. No, their best chance was to get to her while she was still in Novosibirsk. But how?

“My Red Room access credential,” she remembered suddenly. She turned to Fitz and stepped forward, “I need you to follow my instructions step by step. I think I can get you into the video surveillance feed.”

“How?” Fitz asked skeptically.

“They had an access code that could be used at any point in time and space. It’s been active since the Red Room was just a handful of lunatics, because of the legends surrounding the making of the Black Widow. They gave it to me after I acquired my powers, so that wherever or whenever I went, if the Red Room existed at that point in time, I could access all their data to help me with their missions. But we can use this against them now, right?”

The room was silent for a long moment, then Fitz walked to his computer and looked at her again. 

“Tell me what I need to do.”

The building was small, but filled with armed soldiers; it wasn't another research facility with tech guys or scientists, it was a building crawling with agents. They had been staring at the images from eight different cameras for half an hour.

“It's small. Twenty-four rooms across four floors, with no open spaces. She might just pull it off,” May stated in a neutral tone.

The first thing they noticed, were the two guards who had suddenly disappeared from their spots at the beginning of the corridor just after the entrance. The Red Room's surveillance-monitoring agents could notice something was wrong as easily as they did.

“She's in,” Carter stated, even though it wasn't necessary.

“I'm trying to hack the internal earpiece in the helmet she's wearing, if it's still hers I should be able to get in contact within a couple of minutes,” Fitz told them, then started typing away.

After that they saw Maria entering the first room, shoot the three agents inside, all clean shots, before she proceeded to the second room, and then the third. Natalia's heart was hammering in her chest for no other reason than another person being in immediate danger; that hadn't happened to her in a very long time. When Maria was done sweeping the first floor, they could see the Red Room agents starting to become aware of the intrusion. They were grouping and heading towards the elevator, so they could shoot Maria as soon as she stepped out. Instead of doing as expected, she hid beside the sliding door and threw out a hand grenade, bore quickly pressing the button that would make the elevator doors close again.

“Agent Carter, we have contact. You can talk to her if you need to,” Fitz said, pointing at the space bar, letting her know she should push that if she wanted to do just that.

After the blast, Maria pushed the button again, and when the doors opened she could see most of the soldiers were down. She shot the few that were still standing, very dazed by the explosion, then headed out.

“She's quick and precise. And not as stupid as I thought,” Natalia noted.

She was halfway through the second floor, when they saw her starting to lose her balance despite not having been hit. She sweeped another room, then barricaded herself in it and sat down on the ground. Sharon stepped forward and pressed down on the space bar. .

“Agent Hill, do you copy?”

“Carter? How is this- how are you-”

“Fitz hacked you, we also have a visual on you thanks to the Black Widow. What’s happening to you?”

“I don't- my head, it feels like it's exploding,” they watched as Maria clutched her helmet and got it off, then put on the detachable earpiece connected to the same comm. “I was just- I was thinking about the security pad we found in Tomsk. I found a similar one in Samara and Perm, I thought I might find one here too, probably on the top floor. I was trying to remember how to disconnect it and my head just started-” she grunted, then slid down from her sitting position until she was fully lying down.

“What is happening to her?” Carter asked Simmons.

She shook her head. “Agent Hill, do you copy?” Jemma asked instead, when she saw her eyes roll upward. If Maria lost consciousness inside a building full of armed enemies, she would be doomed.

“I can't- I can't remember how to-”

“Maria you told me you’ve known how to deal with those since you were eight years old,” Carter told her, trying to make sense of what was happening, “you can't just _forget_ it now.”

“No, that isn't possible,” Natalia whispered, “those keypads were only invented a couple of years ago and they only installed them in every facility just a few months back.”

Carter turned to her. “When we came for you, there was one of those things on the gates outside the building, not far from where we left our van; Maria said she knew how to disconnect it so it wouldn't alert the guards. She said a friend of her mother’s taught her when she was eight.”

Simmons made the connection just as soon as Natalia did. Fitz cursed when he got there, too. Carter just frowned, not understanding what it meant.

“It was me. She has a memory of me teaching it to her. Present me, the me standing here instead of there, in front of an eight-year old Maria Hill. Since I'm not there teaching her, her memory is being erased as her synapses are being rearranged.”

As though on-cue, Maria's nose started to bleed and her body went rigid with pain.

“She's about to have a seizure. Which is weird,” Natalia noted, “she should be dead by now or at least dying. Her brain shouldn't be able to tolerate this, it should be so damaged that it shuts itself down.”

Carter took out her gun.

“Open the Web Thread,” she ordered to Fitz.

“Agent Carter if we-”

“Open. It.” Carter repeated. “That is an order, Agent Fitz.”

He looked down, nodded and complied. Carter stood at the door as it opened, the gun levelled steady at Natalia's head.

“Step out,” she ordered. Natalia complied wordlessly. “May is going to remove your handcuffs. Maria was eight in 1990, she lived on the corner of the 64thstreet and Kenwood Avenue, Chicago. Go there and teach her how to disconnect those keypads and save her. Or, in twenty-four seconds, when you are forced to come back to this exact place and time, I will shoot you in the head. If you let her die, I'll make sure you follow.”

Natalia stared into Carter's eyes as Sharon stared into hers. She said nothing and did nothing except raise her wrists as May approached her with the biometric key designed by Fitz-Simmons.

May hesitated, but she knew nothing she could say would change Carter's orders. And, frankly, she wasn't sure Sharon was making a mistake; she removed the handcuffs. Natalia smirked, then, she was gone.

  
  


**[March 11th, 1990 – Chicago]**

She checked the date on the front of a newspaper as she walked down the street, to make sure that she actually was in the right time. She stole a baseball cap sat beside a man on a bench, along with a pair of sunglasses from a lady who carelessly left them beside her plate on the table without keeping an eye on them. The chance an eight year old would remember the features of a stranger she saw once were slim, but Natalia wouldn't risk it, since she always seemed to be out of luck those days. Carter had given her the full time, twenty-four seconds, which meant twenty-four hours inside the jump.

She walked down the street, taking in the view. She asked a passing stranger for directions and headed for Hyde Park as she had been told. Maria's home was easy to find, she saw a few old couples and one young couple on the corner Carter pointed her to. Then there was this house with a kid sitting alone in the backyard. And, by the way, who leaves their kid home alone on an average Sunday? Two irresponsible parents, that's who, Natalia thought.

She felt more than a little silly to use her super spy training to sneak into the backyard without catching the attention of one of the neighbors, but it was an effective way to make contact with the little girl quickly. Natalia lowered her cap until it almost touched her sunglasses and then walked towards the girl reading a book as she sat on the grass.

“Maria?” Natalia called, faking a mildly surprised tone, “what are you doing home alone on a Sunday?”

The kid turned to her, eying the stranger carefully.

“How do you know my name?”

Natalia thought back about what Carter said. “Well, I'm a friend of your mother. I was looking for her actually,” she lied.

She saw the kid go stiff, her eyes became instantly sad and she turned back to her book.

“You're eight years too late. She's dead.”

Natalia felt her heart sink to her stomach and immediately wished she had used any other excuse but that one.

“I'm really sorry to hear that,” she murmured, going to sit beside Maria on the grass.

“How long ago were you friends with her?” The child asked, still looking down at her book, but not resuming her reading.

“Before she got married to your dad. We weren't really super close but-” she needed an excuse as to why she knew nothing at all about that woman “-we had something special in common.”

The little girl's eyes shot to her and she looked around carefully, before turning back to her. “Do you have powers, too?” Maria whispered with wonder in her voice.

‘ _Her mom was an Inhuman? That would explain why she is so hellbent on proving I'm good”_ Natalia thought. “Your dad told you about that?” She asked instead, trying to figure out how much Maria knew about them.

“My grandma did, my father just ignores me most of the time. What's your power?” Maria asked her, as her book fell closed.

Natalia sighed and looked around. “Can you keep a secret?” She whispered, turning back to the kid in a secretive manner. Maria nodded eagerly. “I can fly,” she lied.

“That is so cool,” Maria said excitedly, “can you show me?”

“Not here, it's too dangerous. Next time I come visit I will,” she told her, with a small smile. “But your mom's was cooler. I wish I had that one instead,” she took a chance. If it was a curse instead of a gift, then she would find a way around that affirmation. But for now she just wanted Maria to tell her what her mother could do.

“Yeah, I guess,” she shrugged. “My grandma said she was never wrong. But she couldn't use it when she wanted, her visions came randomly,” she said in what Natalia picked up to be a sad, and perhaps even bitter, tone. “And she could never change what she saw. Things would always end up happening the same why they did in her visions; there was never anything to be done.”

_She had the Sight._

Natalia had heard stories about those who foresaw the future. Only very few found a way to be at peace with what they could see happening in their visions. The large majority went crazy really fast and ended up either in a psychiatric hospital or killing themselves.

Maria said her mom had been dead for eight years. She was eight. Chances were she died during childbirth, Natalia figured. But that probably meant she knew what was going to happen if she kept the child and she did it anyway. Was that the reason her dad barely spoke to her? Did he blame his own daughter for that? What kind of man would do that?

Did Maria blame herself?

A feeling seated itself on her chest. The urge to lay a hand on that child's shoulder and tell her that she was going to be okay, that she was going to be great. She wanted to comfort her, in the same way Maria showed her empathy, when they talked about how Bezukhov used to torture her into compliance. Something too close to sorrow shone in Maria's bright eyes. Now it was Natalia's turn to feel so invested in a pain that had nothing to do with her directly. Maria had shown her kindness; she wasn't trying to teach her how to be empathetic, but that didn't stop Natalia from learning it anyway.

“You know, a really wise person once told me that there is always something to be done,” she said, trying to swallow the knot in her throat.

Maria just shrugged and looked down again.

“Where's your dad?”

“Out. Probably drinking. He'll be home in a couple of hours, before it gets dark.”

“Wanna play a game while we wait?” Natalia proposed.

“Sure. What games do you know?”

Natalia smiled at her, “I know just the one. Do you have a sewing kit?”

Maria nodded and got up, walking fast towards the house. Natalia used the moment she had on her own to breathe deeply and remember that she had no connection to Maria Hill. She didn't know her, it didn't matter how much she wanted to know what it was that made Maria's eyes spark anytime she looked at her. Natalia had no spark, she had no feelings, she had no choice, her future was already decided; she could not be good.

When Maria came back, Natalia arranged the buttons on top of the cover of the girl's book, so they would resemble the pattern of the keypads installed by the red room, then took some coloured threads to simulate the wires.

“The game goes like this,” she told her, “you have to break in somewhere to defeat some bad guys and you find an electronic device that looks like this,” she explained. “Now, Maria, you have to promise to remember this game because this also works in reality.”

“Really?” Maria laughed a little and used a very skeptical tone.

“Really. If you ever find something that looks like this, what I'll teach you will deactivate the keypad without alerting the bad guys. Want to play?”

“Yeah, this is so cool!” Maria said immediately, watching closely as the woman told her which buttons to push while she cut certain wires and which threads she had to reconnect so the door would open up without having to force it.

They spent an hour practicing and Maria had an aptitude for it, even as a kid, because she could do it flawlessly by the end of the afternoon.

“Do you promise you'll practice?”

“Yeah, I'll play it again. I'm almost always alone and I get easily bored, anyway,” Maria shrugged as they put the sewing things back into their box, “and this new game is fun,” she stated as she lifted the box and her book.

Natalia heard a car park on the driveway.

“You should head back in, I have to go. But you keep practicing and I'll be back soon.”

Maria nodded and headed inside as Natalia rounded the house, careful not to be seen by the man entering the front door. The cap hid her hair and she wore sunglasses. Maria was just eight so she was probably not going to remember the traits of a stranger she’d seen just once. It would fade away from her memory, but the game would hopefully stick with her until she figured it was actually an useful skill to have. She took off her sunglasses and watched from the sidewalk on the other side of the street, as Maria's father walked to the living room, where Maria was sitting on the couch. She had already resumed reading her book. Natalia had a clear visual thanks to the big window facing the front of the house and light in the room that Maria already turned that on before her father had walked in.

Natalia sighed. She was finished, so, calmly, she closed her eyes, cleared her mind and decided to go, she was ready to jump back; but then she made the mistake of opening her eyes again.

He stumbled, his footing unsure on the level floor. Was he drunk? He said something and Maria turned, saying something back. Then he started yelling. Natalia was just about to cross the road when he rounded the couch and Maria got up. He grabbed her shoulders forcefully, and tears started to collect in little Maria’s eyes as he kept yelling.

Natalia quickly crossed the street as she felt her fingers tingle, _not yet_ , she wanted to beg, her time wasn't up; _not yet._ But she already started the jump, and she knew she couldn't stop it.

She ran as fast as she could with the intention of smashing through the glass window even just to distract him. He lifted his hand, Natasha reached the grass in front of the house, took three more fast steps and then jumped, putting her elbow forward, in front of her head, so her impact on her head wouldn't be too catastrophic, she braced herself for the cutting pain she knew would come; but the impact never came. As her jump reached its downwards slope, she lost her balance and landed gracelessly on the floor of the S.H.I.E.L.D. lab.

~~~~

**[March 11th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

It was the three longest second of Sharon's life.

And yet, many hours later, she had checked the video feed and timed it, then timed it again, and it had only been three mere seconds. That was all it took for the Black Widow to save her best friend's life.

When she came back, she appeared to be in the middle of a physical jump – other than her time and space jump as well.

She fell hard on the floor and looked disoriented for a second. May helped her up and immediately secured her handcuffs again, one around each wrist since they weren't connected by a chain like classical handcuffs.

“No, wait, wait-” she whispered as May made her step backwards into the Web and the door slid closed just as she was behind the threshold. “You have to let me go back,” she pushed against the walls, despite knowing they wouldn't budge. “Let me go back, just let me go back there!” Natalia's words were frantic and she raised her voice, but Carter was already moving.

Sharon holstered her gun back and turned to the monitor. After a few seconds Maria swiped a hand under her nose to wipe the blood and then slowly got back up on her feet.

“Agent Hill you need to come home. You took down two facilities and blew a third one up. You swiped this one clean. S.H.I.E.L.D. took down the larger three today and is going for another three tomorrow. Please let them handle it and come back, you need a medical check up and a good night of rest,” Carter told her in an assertive voice that left no room for protests.

“I will. After I'm done here,” Maria countered, her breathing still a little frantic. “Sharon, in case I don't make it back, please tell her-”

“You're on speaker in the lab. Tell her yourself.” Sharon said in the same neutral tone.

Maria hesitated for a second. Then a loud bang on the door distracted her. “I have to go. Goodbye, Carter.” Maria took her earpiece off and put her helmet back on.

Natalia was staring at the monitor like she saw a ghost.

“Let me go back,” she murmured again in a broken voice, staring at Maria taking down soldier after soldier, but only seeing a little, defenseless girl. “I have to go back.”

Fitz-Simmons, Carter and May looked at her, then exchanged a look with each other. As Fury's call came in, asking for an explanation as to why the Web Thread sent off the security bridging alarm, Sharon excused herself in order to go talk to him, while Fitz-Simmons kept monitoring the Hill situation.

May was left staring at her as she slid down on the floor and hugged her knees to her chest. She rounded the wall and sat down, her back against the glass wall, not that far from Natalia's, whilst on the different side.

“Hill is strong.”

“I could have helped. I should have helped somehow.”

“There was nothing you could do.”

Natalia stared ahead. “There is always something to be done,” she repeated Maria's word.

  
  


Dominika Drakov's interview had been cast worldwide. Everybody knew how the Devil's Keeper came to save her, even if nobody knew she was alive in the present time, or even her real name. But the whole world knew what happened.

A new legend started. The Devil herself would walk the Earth to save a child from getting hurt, she would never allow violence against the innocents.

A new question raised. Was she really the Devil, then?

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thank you for everyone who reads and comments: your words really do keep me writing. I love every single one of you!
> 
> If you want to, let me know what you thought!


	8. By Any Other Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 1998 - 2007: Natalia's years in the Red Room; São Paulo, Hospital Fire, Drakov's daughter  
> |  
> ○ → 2006, December 3rd : Natalia jumps back to 2000 where she meets Maria Hill  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 8th : The Black Widow turns herself in to Maria Hill  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 9th : The Black Widow is captured and brought back to the Helicarrier  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 10th : Maria Hill steels a Quinjet and heads to one of the Red Room's facilities  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 11th : Natalia jumps to 1990 and encounters an eight years old Maria Hill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry but for now this chapter isn't beta-ed. I hadn't posted in such a long time that I wanted to get this out there, so I'm sorry for any mistake you'll find!

  
** [March 12th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified] **

Maria stumbled out of the Quinjet, her legs a little shaky. She was sleep-deprived and emotionally exhausted from the events of the past few days, though she wasn't physically hurting, aside from a headache that had been dragging on since the incidents of the day before. Sharon started yelling in her direction the moment she saw her, but Maria pretty much ignored it as she headed straight for her quarters. But, not one to give in easily, Sharon followed her there and kept yelling as Maria headed for the bathroom and to the shower. She was relentless in listing everything that Maria had done wrong.

After letting her carry on for the better part of an hour since the moment Maria had landed, during which Sharon had barely paused to take a breath, Maria decided to finally stop her.

“I fucked up. But I'm alive.”

“For now, yeah, but Fury might kill you. He almost killed me, that's for sure.”

“Well, you did unleash the Black Widow on the off-chance it would save my life, so,” Maria countered.

“It wasn't an off chance. I knew she would.”

Maria got dressed as Sharon kept pacing the room. They kept the bathroom door opened so they would be able to hear each other, even while Maria showered and changed. Maria didn't mind and Sharon didn’t peek. Even if one of them did, it never meant anything more than checking each other for injuries.

“I'll go and see her; then, if Fury decided to throw me out without a parachute, at least I'l have said goodbye.”

“You do that,” Sharon told her, “go see her. Because that woman, Maria, when it comes to you, she's the furthest thing from a demon I've ever seen. She's as ready to protect you as much as you're ready to protect her.”

“I know.” The answer slipped from Maria's lips before she could stop herself. “Sometimes I think,” she admitted, “that maybe it wasn't all fake. Maybe it wasn’t all lies.”

“This is a dangerous path to take, Maria.”

“I know,” she repeated, “I know it is.”

The lab had been silent since Bobbi, Clint and Phil had left, and Fitz-Simmons had resumed other projects whilst awaiting new orders regarding the Black Widow. May visited her for a while, but wasn't overly talkative; neither of them were. They mostly stayed silent, but it was nice to have someone there, just in case she had something to say; even if she never actually did. Sharon hadn't shown her face since the jump, and Natalia thought Carter might have been in a whole lot of trouble for what she did.

“Was Agent Carter fired?”

“No,” May told her. “She wasn't rewarded either, though.”

That was the only verbal exchange they had the entire day.

It was already well into the afternoon when the lab doors opened and Maria stepped in with Sharon beside her. Natalia got up and walked to the glass as Maria approached it from the other side. They looked at each other for a long moment, and as their eyes met, both of them felt an almost electric sensation. There was so much to say, but there were people around them. Besides, even if they were alone, they probably wouldn't have found the words.

“Thank you, for saving my life.”

Maria knew Natasha could have gone anywhere else in time or space instead, and let her die, coming back with a gun and shooting each of those present at the time between the eyes. Instead, she was quick and precise, efficiently saving her life without using the jump to her personal advantage.

“When the process starts reverting itself there's nothing I can do to stop it. I had already initiated the journey back when I saw what was happening.”

She saw confusion in Maria's eyes, she frowned and it took her a couple of seconds to connect the dots. Once she did, Natalia saw a flash of surprise in her eyes, followed by something dark. Whatever it was, it was gone as quickly as it came.

“It was a long time ago.”

Natalia wanted to tell her that it wasn't to her. That the injustice was still fresh in her eyes, and that the rage and sorrow she felt couldn't be tamed.

“What are they talking about?” Fitz asked quietly.

“I have no idea,” Simmons whispered back.

Maria took her phone out and swiped for a few seconds, looking for something. Then showed Natalia the screen. It was an article from the New York Times entitled; ‘The Little Girl Saved by the Devil’.

“This has spread worldwide. A lot of people are asking themselves if the legends about you might actually be wrong. It only took one little girl, because this is actually the only documented story about you; there's even a video taken from her father's security cameras of you dropping her off. You’ve turned and your face can't be seen, but the red hair was instantly connected to the Devil's Keeper's painting.”

Natalia frowned as her eyes scanned across the article.

“CNN is making a two hour special tonight about your sightings all throughout history,” Fitz pointed out, “and my parents said Europe went nuts over this.”

“Well, after all, the world has a single shred of proof of her existence and it’s a video of her saving a little girl,” Simmons added.

Natalia was tempted to point out how the girl wouldn't have been in danger in the first place if it wasn't for her, but decided against it. Maria put her phone back in her pocket and gave her a tiny smile.

“So, in case Fury murders me,” she started, but didn't know what else to say, so she just shrugged and paused. She nodded once, as a sign of departure.

She hesitated for a moment longer, then turned around and started to walk out.

“Maria?” Natalia called back.

She turned again and looked at her.

“You still owe me an answer and a lasagna,” she told her seriously.

Maria smiled a little, “I already paid those debts.”

She turned around and left the room alongside Sharon, before Natalia could ask her for any further explanation.

Fury did not murder her, nor did he throw her out of the Helicarrier. There was a lot of yelling involved though, as he shred her letter of resignation to pieces in front of her eyes, but Maria knew that this was about as well as it could’ve gone.

She waited patiently for him to be done yelling, it took about an hour, as she nodded and answered 'yes sir, absolutely sir, won't happen again sir' to damn near everything he said.

After he was done, there was a moment of silence as Maria awaited his verdict. She knew Sharon had been suspended for three days for saving her life, so she was ready for at least a month, since she was the one who had put herself in danger and led to Carter making that call.

“You're suspended.”

Maria nodded. She was expecting that much.

“One week. You stay in your room and get to leave to go to the cafeteria three times a day. If I see your face anywhere else, or if you ever pull something like this ever again, I'll send you to our ground facility in Antarctica, where you will do nothing but a desk job for the next ten years.”

“Yes, sir. Absolutely. Won't happen again, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

Maria knew better than to question her luck, so she bolted out as soon as she was told to, and disappeared from sight before Fury could change his mind.

  
  


**[March 14th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Natalia had been given news by May for the past couple of days. Hill was suspended. Carter was suspended. The field teams were scheduled to return any minute.

“Were there any casualties?”

“One on Barton's team, two on Coulson's, none on Bobbi's.”

“I'm deeply sorry for your losses.”

May nodded.

“They took out two yesterday and the last three this morning. Are there any other active facilities that you know of?”

“I don't think so. But, somehow, I also don't think you managed to actually dismantle the entire Red Room in a week.”

“Well, you gave us the maps and intel. They were regrouping and we took advantage of that,” May pointed out. “There's one last thing. Barton's team, they found a training facility. Not filled with agents, but with little girls, aged seven to twelve.”

“They were probably starting on the next generation of Black Widows.”

“You weren't the only one?”

“No. But I was the only one who survived.”

The room fell silent for a long moment.

“Clint found some records. He has a pretty clear idea of what they've been putting those girls through,” her voice was careful and hesitant.

“I don't want your pity, Agent May.”

“Good, because I don't pity you. I feel rage towards the people who did this to all of you, and I admire the amount of strength that it must’ve taken to push yourself through,” she told her, without averting her eyes or stalling, so Natalia would be sure she meant it.

“I sometimes wish I was weaker, if it meant not having to do some of the things I've done,” she answered honestly.

May's phone rang loudly, “I have to go.”

Natalia nodded and said nothing else. 

She was lying on the bed in her cell, when she heard the doors open. She didn't turn around, because she knew May never visited that late, so it had to be either Fitz or Simmons. Either way, they always greeted her when coming in, so she would know soon enough. But no greeting came, even as she saw someone approaching the glass. Out of the corner of her eye, almost immediately she recognized him.

“Welcome back, Agent Barton.”

He was silent. Natalia sat up, pulling her feet of the bed and onto the floor as she turned towards him without getting up.

She could see his eyes were dark and haunted. He had some bandaged wounds; Natalia assumed he just got out of medical and that was the reason for the late visit. Clint silently stepped even further forward and turned, placing his back on the glass and sliding down until he was sitting on the floor. Natalia got up and walked to where he was sitting, mimicking his position and half a foot to his right, so she could still see him if she turned. He stayed silent for a very long time.

“How old were you?” Clint asked quietly.

Natalia dwelt on the question, thinking that maybe she should lie to him, to make him feel less burdened. Then again, maybe the best thing for him in that moment was some honesty.

“Four.”

He brought his hands up and covered his face briefly, before he ran them through his hair.

“Were your parents-” he stopped himself.

“Yes. The Red Room agents who came for me killed my parents and my brothers. I fit the description, red hair, green eyes, descended from a bloodline of people with powers. I guess we're called Inhumans these days.”

He fell silent again. Natalia waited patiently.

“I'm sorry,” he murmured.

“It's not your fault.”

“I meant I'm sorry for being quick to judge you and for not trusting you.”

“Why would you? I haven't proved I'm trustworthy. Yet.”

“You saved Maria.”

It was Natalia's turn to stay quiet for a long time.

“You didn't see each other just once, did you?” Clint asked after a while.

“Probably not. I don't know that for sure though, yet.”

“Did you save her because you think you two were in love?”

“Love is for children. I owe her a debt.”

He turned to her, laying his temple on the glass.

“How old is she?” Natalia asked. Clint frowned. “Your daughter. Nobody gets this torn up over this stuff unless they either have a kid, or went through something similar themselves.”

Clint was silent for a long moment.

“My son's four, my daughter's two.”

They didn't say anything else for a long time, they simply sat there in a comfortable silence, without feeling the need to make pointless small talk.

“I should probably get back, I actually have a mild concussion and wasn't supposed to leave medical. Morse was supposed to check up on me every hour.”

Natalia actually chuckled at his recklessness. He scratched his neck and smiled sheepishly while getting up. She did as well.

“Bye, Natalia.”

“Goodbye, Agent Barton.”

“You can call me Clint,” he smiled.

She nodded and smiled back. It was small, but at least it wasn't fake.

  
  


**[March 16th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

The days went by slowly, but steadily. Sharon eventually came back from her suspension and occasionally came by to check on her. She never mentioned Maria, so Natalia didn't either. May continued keeping her up to date. Clint visited quite often, and he talked too much. But it helped pass the time, so Natalia was secretly glad for all his silly stories. It was a Friday when Nick Fury himself came to the lab she was held in. She quickly figured he was a man of few words, who communicated primarily through silences.

“How are you feeling?”

“I'm alive, sir.”

“I can see that.”

There was a long pause.

“Is your bed comfortable?”

“I've slept in worse places, sir.”

There was another pause.

“Is the food any good?”

“It's more than enough, sir.”

His pauses were accompanied by some studying glances.

“Are the clothes-”

“With all due respect, I don't think you're here to discuss my living arrangements. Are you?”

“I'm not,” he said, then paused again. Natalia had learned to be patient the hard way, so she waited without a single complaint. “I think you and I both know this can't be a permanent arrangement,” he gestured around the Web Thread. “You can't live in this cage forever.”

“Isn't mine a sentence of life imprisonment?”

“According to the result of what trial?” Fury raised his eyebrow. “We are going to keep the handcuffs on you at all times, but there is no need to keep you here, since those work just fine.”

“So you're saying I’ll get a different prison, with a little more privacy?”

Fury sighed deeply. “Someone made a very compelling argument to your credit, about how you turned to us for protection and so far we've only been restraining you. You saved one of our best agents, and helped us take out the better part of an hostile organization that otherwise would have taken weeks or even months to dismantle. We are more than willing to return a favour.”

“How?” Natalia asked merely out of curiosity.

“Fitz-Simmons think they can reprogram you. All those switches to turn off your will, they can be erased if you let them do their thing. It will take time, and it won't be easy or painless, but you should be up and running in about a month or so.”

“What do you want in return?”

“Nothing. You'll be free. Unless, of course, you would like to stay and become an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. In which case, you're more than welcome to.” His proposition sounded almost casual.

Natalia thought about it for a few moments.

“I have two conditions and a question.”

Fury raised his eyebrow and eyed her disbelievingly. “let's hear them.”

“First, I would like to talk to the agent who made this, compelling argument, as you said, before I make my decision.”

He mulled it over for a mere second. “Done.”

“Second, I want to be sure I'm on the right side, this time. That means, no secret details regarding the missions I'm working on.”

“As far as it's within your clearance level, I can't see why there would be secrets.”

It was Natalia's time to eye him disbelievingly. He just rolled his eye and made a gesture for her to go on with the question.

“How did Maria Hill take down four Red Room's facilities in three days and then come back without a single scratch?”

“That is a question you'll have to ask Agent Hill. But the simple answer? She's just that good. She didn't become one of the best in the field because she's good at knitting, I can tell you that much,” he raised an eyebrow. “Is this all?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have someone call me when you have an answer to my offer to become an Agent here. And tell Fitz-Simmons when you make up your mind about the reprogramming.”

“Yes, sir.”

He turned around and left without saying anything else.

Half an hour later, the doors opened up again.

“You wanted to see me?”

It came to no surprise at all that Hill was the one to appear across the threshold.

“I thought you were suspended.”

“Fury said you requested my presence.”

“I asked him to see the Agent who advocated for my freedom.”

Her choice of words must have been wrong, because Maria stiffened immediately, despite how she tried to hide it.

“I just told him this was excessive. You have the handcuffs and you're not a threat; he can give you a normal room instead of keeping you trapped in this transparent thing. And I didn't go alone, by the way, I requested the meeting, but Sharon, Melinda, Clint, Fitz-Simmons, and even Phil and Bobbi were all ready to state that, according to our assessments, there's no need for this cage.”

“Woah. That sounds like a huge risk. What if I'm just playing you all? They taught me how to make someone believe anything I want them to, and I'm the best in my field. Even without time travel, I'm sure S.H.I.E.L.D. has heard about me before.”

Maria laughed bitterly. “Are you deceiving us?”

“I'm not, but why would you believe me?”

Maria's jaw clenched briefly. “Yes, the Black Widow has been on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar for a fair while, and not in a good way. This is your chance to use the skills you have for good; if you don't want it, don't take it.”

Her suddenly dismissive attitude made Natalia understand she had said exactly the wrong thing.

“You think I deceived you. That I played you, somehow, somewhere in your past,” she made an educated guess.

“You did,” Maria confirmed. “And I haven't forgiven what you did to me. I thought that much was clear,” her words stung more than Natalia thought they would, “but this isn't personal. You helped us with the Red Room, you saved my life, you're making friends here. And I know you would have already escaped if you were just using us to get away from them. You _want_ to be good and here's your chance. Take the deal, Romanova.”

“On one condition,” she countered almost immediately.

“I thought you already gave your conditions to Fury.”

“If this is my clean slate, then let's make it a completely fresh one. No more Natalia Romanova. If I sign Fury's contract and let Fitz-Simmons strap me down to a bed for a month, if I walk out of there alive, I'm no longer the Red Room's property.”

“You were never theirs in the first place,” Maria whispered. “Who do you want to be, then?”

It was easy. She wanted to be someone whom Maria would be able to forgive, she wanted to be the person Maria got on a Quinjet for, and flew across the world to protect. She wanted to be a person worth fighting for, worth making arguments for, a person worth loving. _But love is for children_ , a voice inside her head warned her. 

And it was true. Yet, she owed that woman her freedom, her second chance, even her life. She owed her a debt she might have never been able to pay back. But she was willing to try.

“I want to be Natasha Romanoff.”

A long moment passed. Then Maria quietly whispered ‘deal’ right before she left the room.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought!
> 
> I want to thank everyone who's reading this story, I know there aren't many people reading this, but each and everyone of you s absolutely awesome! A special thank you to those who leave a comment on every chapter: you always bring up my morale and make me want to write more! This is for you all <3


	9. She'll Be A Scar Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 1998 - 2007: Natalia's years in the Red Room; São Paulo, Hospital Fire, Drakov's daughter  
> |  
> ○ → 2006, December 3rd : Natalia jumps back to 2000 where she meets Maria Hill  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 8th-9th : The Black Widow turns herself in and is brought to the Helicarrier  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 11th : Natalia jumps to 1990 and encounters an eight years old Maria Hill  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 12th-18th : Maria is suspended after returning to the Helicarrier  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 16th : Natasha accepts Fury's offer to become a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent

  
** [April 16th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified] **

She lost track of time quickly after they started reverting her conditioning. Simmons told her she was in and out of consciousness for two weeks. It was another week and a half before she’d recovered from the process enough to be able to start counting days again. Slowly but steadily she improved, she started feeling better by the day, until after a month she was ready to start her training, just as Fitz-Simmons had predicted.

Clint still visited her. The visits were very short and consisted purely of small talk as Natalia's room was under video surveillance, at least until she finished her reprogramming.

“Fitz and Simmons have been assigned to the Triskelion.”

“I know”, Natalia said, “they left yesterday.”

Clint sighed. “May and Phil are still in Egypt, they've been there for a week already. Morse has been assigned something undercover and left three days ago.”

“I know, Clint, they all came to say goodbye. Who knows why.”

“Because they care,” he shrugged.

“They shouldn't,” she told him tiredly. _And the one person who should have, didn't anymore_ , she thought. “Is Hill...”

“Yes, she left a month ago for that mission in Belgium and has been gone ever since. I have this hunch Fury isn’t planning to let her return until she’s back to her cold and calculating self. You've only met her when she was going through all of this, but,” he shrugged and didn't finish the sentence.

“Carter came here twice. She never said a word. Just looked at me, saw I was still alive, then left again.”

Clint shrugged. “Sharon is like that. We're meeting our handler later, Sitwell. I know him already, he's a douche but it could have been worse. We're going to be Strike Team Delta. Cool name, isn't it?”

“Your childish behaviour is endearing,” she said in a monotonous tone.

“Come on, you're going to go through a Truth Machine. How aren't you at least a little excited or nervous or _something_?”

Natalia sighed, “I don't know, Clint.”

“You do too, Natalia.”

She looked at him and hesitated, “I was actually thinking about changing that. I don't feel like her anymore, I don't think that's who I am anymore. Plus, I already told Fury to have Natasha Romanoff printed on my gear, so,” she shrugged.

“And it has nothing to do with the woman you supposedly owe a debt to?” Clint raised an eyebrow.

“My father used to call me that when I was a kid and I wanted to become a ballerina here in the States. Believe it or not, there's nothing going on between Hill and me. There never was.”

“Sure. You tell yourself whatever you need to, Natasha.”

She rolled her eyes, punched him in the shoulder, then dropped the topic at once.

  


Natasha walked into the room and was connected to the Truth Machine by a technician.

“An agent will be with you shortly to question you.”

She nodded, knowing already it would be Sitwell, her soon-to-be handler.

Once she was alone, she thought about what Clint said. About the name she’d chosen. Perhaps there was some truth to what he said about Hill, but it didn't matter, because Maria hadn't been on the Helicarrier in a month and she’d yet to make contact. She’d moved on and Natasha was supposed to have already forgotten all about her. 

Love was for children. And friends were weaknesses.

When the door opened she raised her eyes boredly, but as she met the blue ones that had crossed her mind more times than she was comfortable admitting, she sat up straight as her back stiffened immediately. 

Hill was there. Why was Maria there?

She sat down at the desk and laid a file on top of it; it was obviously Natasha's. She put a recorder next to the file and started it, after checking that the truth machine was already functioning.

“When did you come back?”

“Please state your name.”

“Why didn't you check in? You advised me to take this deal and then disappeared.”

“Please state your name,” Maria repeated, still staring down at her file and avoiding eye contact.

“Are you staying? Does this mean you're going to be my handler?”

Maria sighed, stopped the recorder and rewound it to its starting point; then, finally, she looked at Natasha.

“I see you haven't lost your habit of asking questions when you're supposed to be giving answers. I know you could get this information out of me more subtly, which means you wanted me to notice you're not trying to manipulating me. Still, I'm not going to answer you. Now, I'm going to start recording again and if you don't answer properly and behave professionally, I'll walk right out of that door and declare you unfit.”

“You wouldn't do that. They'd throw me in a cell for the rest of my life.”

Hill leaned slightly forward, her elbows on the desk. “Try me.”

Maria held her gaze for five excruciating seconds, before looking back down at the papers in front of her and starting the recorder again. She turned her eyes to the readings of the truth machine currently connected to Natasha, and then picked up her pen again.

“Please state your name.”

“Natasha Romanoff.”

Maria checked the lines, then wrote down the name. “How long have you been in the Red Room?”

“Eighteen years.”

Maria looked at her briefly, then her eyes flew back on the charts. She wrote down the number and looked back up at her, “that is a very long time. You and Barton became friends overnight, this makes me wonder how many friends you still have there.”

“Clint isn't my friend. I barely know him,” she stated. “I'm sorry, was there a question in there? I couldn't detect one,” she said smugly.

“Are you still in contact with your friends?”

“I don't have any.”

“That's not really believable.”

“Am I lying, Agent Hill?” Natasha challenged her.

Maria looked at the charts. She wrote something down, then looked back at her. “Who was the person closest to you?”

“My handler? His name was Ivan Bezukhov. I shot him and hid his body when I turned myself in to you.”

“Where did you hide him?” Maria asked, all the while writing the information down.

“In the past. The safe house where Dominika Drakov was held for a day, there were three dead bodies, two were the agents accompanying me, one was Bezukhov's.”

“He was your handler. Were you close?”

“He thought I was his possession. He said I was his favourite Black Widow, that I only survived him because he was soft on me.”

“Was he?”

Natasha laughed, “maybe for his standards. I was the only one to survive, after all.”

“How many were there originally?”

“I don't know. When I was four maybe a couple of hundred. Twenty-eight of us graduated when I was sixteen. We were each married off to a guardian, then brought back a few months afterwards and I counted twenty-one of us that went through the Terrigen Mist.”

“A couple of hundred?”

“Yes. All recruited to be possible candidates according to The Devil's Keeper painting, all with red hair and green eyes and Inhumans in their bloodline. Some were Ukrainian, some Norwegian, all across the world, really. I was probably his favourite because he wanted the Black Widow to be Russian,” she explained.

“How many came out of the Mist?”

“Three of us. Two died shortly after, and one went insane because of her gift, Bezukhov had her discharged. Another could control electricity. She killed herself before she could learn to control her powers. She had no help and no clue what she was doing. We were just children.”

Maria wrote it down, then paused and looked up again, an unspoken question on the tip of her tongue that Natasha wasn't sure she should answer.

“Yes, she went insane because she had the Sight; she wasn't strong enough.” _Unlike your mother_ , she didn't say but made clear with her eyes.

“Tell me about your husband.”

Natasha looked down and a little smile played on her lips. It wasn't a particularly painful memory anymore, she made her peace with his death long before. Yet, she remembered him with fondness as you do with a departed loved one.

“Alexei wasn't a good man by any standard,” she started, still looking down at her own hands, “he was a soldier, and as such he followed orders. I was never mad at him because of what he was ordered to do, we both knew it wasn't his choice. I was disgusted by him at first, but I was soon able to see he was disgusted by what he had to do as well.”

She didn't raise her eyes, but could see Maria slowly ran a hand across her own lips as Natasha's words slowly sank in.

“After we got married I started my missions; it was just another test for the both of us. After a few months Bezukhov came and asked for me back, maybe someone higher up in the command-chain finally gave him permission to do so, maybe Alexei stepped on the wrong toes. He came and killed him. In the same unhesitating way he killed the only friend I've ever had when I was fourteen. He needed to teach me that love was for children, and that my childhood was long gone. I learnt my lesson then, and we moved forward.”

When she looked up, she caught Maria's eyes and saw them shining with something unfathomable to Natasha herself. Maria quickly lowered her gaze to the paper in front of her and wrote down the bones of what Natasha had just told her. A few impersonal questions followed, about which languages she spoke, which martial arts she knew, what special skills she had, i she was still loyal to the Red Room – “no” – or if she ever was – “absolutely not” – or if they were just her abusers. 

Then a question came that Natasha couldn't answer.

“Tell me about your family.”

She breathed in and lied easily, “I don't remember them.”

Maria looked at the charts, then at Natasha. She hesitated for a second, then looked down at the reading on the machine.

“Tell me about your family, Agent Romanoff,” she requested again, a warning note to her tone.

“I don't remember them,” Natasha said again, confident there could be nothing off with her parameters.

Maria closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead.

“Am I lying?” Natasha asked in a relaxed manner.

“Not according to the machine,” Maria stated. She wrote something down, then traced a line on the file and wrote something else, all capitalized, “which means you've been lying during the entire time you've been connected to this _useless_ thing. Which means you could still be loyal to the Red Room. Which means,” she gritted her teeth and raised her eyes to look at her, “there's nothing I can do to keep you out of a cell.”

Natasha frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Maria put her pen down and leaned back in her chair. “I'm talking about your three brothers. I'm talking about Mikhail,” she looked at the charts and saw Natasha's measured responses flow just after she uttered the name, confirming her suspicions that she knew exactly what Maria was talking about. She laughed ironically and shook her head, “I can't fucking believe you.”

“How did you-” she didn't need to ask that question. The answer came to her immediately. “This is why they sent you instead of the other agent.”

Maria just stared at her with hard eyes and a disappointed expression.

“You knew about him and just asked anyway?” Natasha scoffed at her. “You knew I would never talk about him, and you still asked. You _wanted_ me to fail.”

“No, I wanted you to lie. And I wanted the machine to tell me you were, I would have dropped the subject and the other things you said wouldn't have been in doubt. But of _fucking_ course you can cheat a truth machine,” she scoffed and threw her pen down on the table.

“Of course I can. How do you think I've stayed alive?” Natasha answered harshly. “They had these in the Red Room, too. They've asked me to pledge my loyalty to them and to Russia so many times I've lost count. How do you think we went from hundreds to twenty-eight?”

She ripped off the strap from around her arm and the device on her finger, as Maria shook her head and closed the file in front of her.

“You shouldn't need this. I thought S.H.I.E.L.D. valued actions over words. I saved your life, I helped taking down the Red Room, I've done everything Fury has asked me to do. I've signed that contract. Still, that's not enough unless I talk about how I had to cradle my dying brother in my arms eighteen years after I lost him the first time, how he kept weeping and crying out in pain. I had to talk about how I lost the only two friends I've ever had because Bezukhov killed them in front of my eyes. I had to watch Mikhail die, I had to watch Dominika die, I had to watch you-” she stopped herself just in time. Anger was spilling through her teeth like water from a river and every loss she ever experienced was coming out in waves of pain and rage. “I don't talk about the kids,” she said while trying to regain her composure, trying to calm herself. “Ask me anything else and I won't need to cheat a truth machine. But don't ever ask about the kids I had to hold through their deaths. I won't talk about the kids.”

Maria's eyes were filled with pain and righteous anger. She was never good at allowing injustices, always wanting to fix them, always wanting to erase them.

“You call yourself a monster, and I've never seen you blink if not for a calculated move. And yet you're ready to throw away your second chance at life because you can't bear the thought of a child suffering.”

Natasha just shook her head, clenched her jaw and stared ahead.

“Dominika is alive and well. I'm alive and well. I'm deeply and truly sorry for your losses. But you've saved many, and if you stay on this path you will save a lot more.”

“You still don't get it,” Natasha murmured, “my path won't matter. I will still get there. I'm the Devil's Keeper. That's my fate.”

Maria wanted to lash out and scream, _What about that time you told me I was your fate? Were you lying as if you were strapped to a truth machine then, too?_

Instead, she just got up and picked up the file.

“I'll talk to Fury about what happened and what you told me and he will decide what to do,” she stopped the recorder and pocketed it.

She stepped around the desk and headed for the door, but stopped when she was beside Natasha's chair. Natasha kept staring forward and Maria kept her eyes on the door, but they were side by side, facing in opposing directions.

“What happened to them wasn't your fault. None of it was.”

Perhaps it wasn't, but it still burdened her down. As if she was reading her thoughts, Maria's hand hesitantly rose up and landed on her shoulder, squeezing lightly in a comforting gesture. That one simple thing knocked Natasha's breath away from her lungs. That touch that was not demanding, was not forced, was not greedy but was instead generous, empathetic, and maybe even loving. She raised a trembling hand and laid it on Maria's, squeezing her fingers for a second and then letting go again. A moment later her hand slid off Natasha's shoulder and she started walking again towards the door, not looking down and not looking back.

Sharon had been looking for her all over the Helicarrier and honestly cursed herself, because that should have been the first place she checked.

“Staring at the painting again?” Carter asked, sitting down beside Maria.

“I found this replica a couple of weeks ago, and sent it to Fury. It's better, closer to the original. The other figure is colored too and you can see the blood on the neck and shoulders.”

“Why are you staring at her painting? She's upstairs, you know? You can knock on her door, there's no need to be this nostalgic.”

“I thought I gotten over her. I saw her once and almost lost my dream job to run to her rescue. Then, I thought I gotten over her again, but I almost lied to Fury today to save her ass,” she admitted. “This isn't me. The career fanatic, ambition-driven woman I thought I was.”

“Did you? Lie to Fury?”

“No. Barely.”

“Then it is still you, Hill. Suck it up and admit that it isn’t the end of the world if you care about someone that much.”

“I care about you, I care about May. Hell, I even care about Phil and Clint. Don't tell them that though or I'll kill you barehanded,” she warned, “but that has never brought my judgement into question before. Fury sent me away for a month, on a pointless mission in Belgium because I was a self-declared liability to our team, hoping I would gain my objectivity back.”

“You did. You didn't lie for her, you're not off on a Quinjet ready to make a building blow up. Not yet, anyway,” Sharon whispered and shrugged.

Maria scoffed at her and rolled her eyes. She kept quiet for a long moment, averting her eyes again and trying to find the right words.

“It took years for my scars to fade. And the moment she stepped back into my life, it was like they'd never really stopped bleeding at all. She'll always be freshly marked on my skin.”

Maria used to wear those scars like medals. She was proud of the woman she had loved. Now those same scars looked like webs of lies whispered right into her ears by a spider. And she wanted to hide them, like the shame she felt knowing that she never noticed the woman beside her wasn't who she said she was.The guilt was heavy on her heart, like the distant memory of a head laying on her chest. And yet, if those scars were to ever start fading, she would pick up a knife herself and cut through them again to sharpen their edges once more, so she would never forget the shape of Natasha's marks on her soul.

“I've been in love with her for so long I couldn't imagine not being that way anymore. And I love her still, I really do. But I can't be with her, because I resent her and I might never forgive her for what she did to me.”

Sharon stared at her profile, watching her watch the painting that she barely ever glanced at herself, but that Maria seemed to be enamoured with.

“For so long, having her back was the only thing I wished for. And now that she's here, I can't look at her without wanting to yell at her.”

“Yell at her, then,” Carter told her simply, “scream and yell and kick her ass and then get over your idiotic self, Maria. Take it from a Carter, if you get the long lost love of your life back, you don't question how it's happened. My aunt never stopped loving Captain America, she still talks about him, you know? If he came back, telling her he faked his death because HYDRA forced him to, she would smack him in the head with one hand and caress his cheek with the other. It's never too late when the one you're meant for comes back to you.”

Maria fell quiet and just rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.

“She can lie so easily. What if none of it was ever real? What if she never meant those things she told me, those things she did, what if I was just another job? Another person who scarred her and used her and-” the knot in her throat stopped her from saying another word.

“My God, Maria. Are you afraid she-” Sharon frowned “-didn't want to be with you and did it anyway? That we sent her to save your life or something? And she just went with what you wanted?”

Maria didn't answer her, which was answer enough.

“She did some things to me I might never forgive her for. But I might have done some things that I could never forgive myself for either.”

She didn't add anything else, and Sharon didn't pressure her to. They stayed there, sitting in silence, with Maria’s admission as to the other reason why she was so torn up by everything that was happening to them, still floating in the silence. 

  


When Fury went looking for her, Natasha thought it was to have her arrested and thrown into a dark, deep cell, where she could rot forevermore. But he just looked at her for a while and then showed her a biometric key.

“I have a mission for you.”

“What kind of mission?” Natasha asked carefully.

“The kind that only you can go on. Ready to take those handcuffs off?”

Oh God, was she ever.

She missed jumping, she missed the rush in her veins, the tingling in her nerves, the freedom filling up every cell of her body.

“What about my interview with Hill, sir?”

“Well, she and I both agree that acts often speak louder than words. You want me to believe you?” Fury raised the key. “Prove to me where you stand.”

Natasha thought about how that might have been a trap for just a moment. Then, she nodded and without further ado, she raised her wrists so he could take her restraints off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any questions you might have about the story, the plot, the  
> timeline, or in general to talk to me, please feel free to ask in the  
> comments or on [my tumblr](https://thetruthaboutlovecomesat3am.tumblr.com/)!  
>   
> Let me know what you think about this!  
> 


	10. The Girl Who Waited...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 1998 - 2007: Natalia's years in the Red Room; São Paulo, Hospital Fire, Drakov's daughter  
> |  
> ○ → 2006, December 3rd : Natalia jumps back to 2000 where she meets Maria Hill  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 8th-9th : The Black Widow turns herself in and is brought to the Helicarrier  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 11th : Natalia jumps to 1990 and encounters an eight years old Maria Hill  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 16th : Natasha sees Maria again after they've been apart for a month

**[April 16** **th** **, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Fury handed her a change of clothes, so she could change into civilian attire, fake IDs, a baseball cap and sunglasses, then he took off her handcuffs.

He explained her mission, a simple data retrieval the day before that an agent had missed. He told her when and where to find the USB flash drive and that it shouldn't take too long.

Yet, Natasha didn't see him get ready to set a timer or something similar.

“Enjoy your time away, Agent Romanoff.”

Natasha nodded and disappeared.

She went back to the point Fury told her and recovered the data. It took less than an hour, since she jumped pretty close to the exact point. But what kept ringing in her years for the whole time were the words he used. He told her to enjoy that time away. Like it would be her last.

But if she was going back to a life in jail, there was one thing she absolutely had to do.

**[March 3** **rd** **, 2001 – New York City]**

First Saturday of March. The coffee shop was still the same, but the crowd was a little larger. She stopped a pedestrian and asked for the time. It was seven sharp, she was right on time. Then again, Maria did advise her not to be late.

She was already there, waiting for her with her shoulders against a wall and her hands inside her coat's pockets.

The skinny eighteen years old with haunted eyes and a smile that lit up the world had been stripped away, replace by a woman with a muscled body and a strong stare.

But it was still her. It was still that stubborn, closed off kid, that changed the way Natasha saw the world by merely kissing her on the cheek with a softness that had never been known to her before.

“Seven o'clock. Just like you asked,” Natasha smiled as Maria looked up and recognized her, smiling immediately back.

“Hey there,” she pushed off the wall and and greeted Natasha with a kiss on the cheek. It was a simple gesture but it threw her off balance a little, “I see you found your coat.”

“Bought a new one, actually,” she smiled and opened the door for her as Maria got inside and she followed her.

“How's your super secret government job?”

“Still super secret. How's the army?”

Maria shrugged. “What's your favorite dessert?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at the abrupt change of topic. “I don't know. I don't think I've tried a lot of different desserts. Why?”

“How can you not know what your favorite dessert is?” Maria chuckled. “They have chocolate cake, cheesecake and apple pie,” Maria pointed at the counter, past the end of the line.

“What if I don't like either one?”

“Well, we gotta start somewhere. Have you ever tried those?”

Natasha could have lied. It would have seemed a lot more average if she told Maria she just liked cheesecake and had some and pretended to like it. But why would she? It wasn't a mission where she had to pass as something close to the average American girl.

She could just be Natasha.

“Never. Let's have a piece of each, we can share.”

Maria laughed at her, but then nodded. “Still like cappuccino?”

She smiled and nodded, a little pleased that Maria remembered. “Still like espresso?”

“Yep” Maria told her popping the 'p' while taking out her wallet as they reached the end of the line to the counter.

“Oh, no. You paid last time,” Natasha put a hand over hers and stopped her from reaching inside, “this time it's my treat.”

Technically, it was Fury's, but Maria didn't have to know that.

She paid in cash and they sat down at the table they had last time, taking the same seats, drinking the same coffees, and Natasha could almost feel a tradition building itself up.

But no, she couldn't think like that.

She went there to tell Maria they could never see each other again. She didn't want to stand her up and she went to the one date they agreed on, but she wasn't going to set up another one. She would never have the chance to make it there anyway, since Fury was going to lock her up.

“Okay, let's start with the apple pie,” she said and put it between them, starting on one side while Maria took a piece from the other.

Half an hour and too many laughs to count later, Natasha was positive she was never going to eat a cheesecake or a chocolate cake ever again in her life.

“Well, your loss because cheesecake is delicious,” Maria mocked her.

“It's so sweet,” Natasha laughed and shook her head while bowing it lightly, “the chocolate one, too. They're too sweet, Maria.”

“The apple pie is just as sweet.”

“But the fruit muffles it a little. Maybe I just don't like desserts,” she shrugged casually.

Maria paused with her fork full of cheesecake halfway to her mouth. “You're a robot, aren't you? You gotta be a robot,” she said, then eat the cake.

Natasha smirked at her. “Wouldn't you like to know.”

They lost again track of time talking about the things they had to try together and the fact that Natasha had never eaten in a French Restaurant and Maria said she was going to take her there the next time she would be back in town.

Natasha couldn't find the strength to tell her no, so she nodded and smiled and Maria was staring at her like Natasha had invented that cheesecake Maria liked so much all by herself.

She felt giddy and warm and she was ready to blame it on the coffee, her own mind accusing her of behaving childishly.  _ Love is for children, Natalia. _

  


It resonated in her ears and in her heart. She was going to lose Maria somehow. So why get attached? It was pointless and made no sense, it was childish and stupid. But she had never wanted to be stupid so much.

“What is the thing you desire more than anything else in the world?” Natasha asked again, out of the blue.

Maria smiled at her and bowed her head. She looked younger, in that moment, like a child with a secret looking away from her parent because she was afraid of being punished.

“To love endlessly and be loved back.”

Natasha saw the ghosts in her eyes clear as the light of day. An image of her father with his hand raised up high flashed in Natasha's mind and she understood that Maria felt like she had never been loved unconditionally. That was a parent's job that neither one of her parents had been able to accomplish.

Maria wanted to feel wanted.

And Natasha wanted her. But she could never give her that kind of love.

“What is the thing you desire most, Natasha?” Maria asked back with a little smile.

Again, she could have lied and said she could really use a pair of new shoes. But she didn't have to be anything else than herself.

“I want to be free.”

Free to see the whole world, free to jump through all of history, free to read a book, watch a movie, listen to a song. Free to be with Maria whenever she wanted to.

“I feel like if I could have that, the rest would come on its own.”

Maria looked at her without adding anything, just studying her face.

“We should go, it's half past nine and they're closing up,” Natasha noted. “Come on, I'll walk you wherever you need to go,” she offered, standing up.

“I was thinking of just going back to my hotel. I'm looking forward to a long night of sleep,” Maria admitted, then started walking and Natasha followed her lead.

“You're going back to West Point tomorrow?”

Maria nodded. “I'm coming back in three months. Want another coffee?” she offered with a smile.

Natasha smiled back at her, then looked forward again but said nothing.

“Alright, look, let's make this as casual as possible. I'll be in the mood for French the second of June and I'll book a table in that restaurant I was telling you about before. If you just so happen to want to join me, come at my hotel at seven and I'll take you there,” Maria offered.

“That doesn't sound casual at all, Maria” Natasha pointed out, looking at her sideways. “You're planning a date three months from now.”

“It doesn't have to be a date. You don't seem interested and I respect that, I just think you would like that place.”

The “I'd like the company better” that followed, slipped out before Natasha could catch it on her own lips. _Oh, what the hell_. “And I'm very much interested. Seven o'clock in front of your hotel on the third of June. I won't be late.”

“You better not be.” Maria beamed, actually, honest-to-God, beamed at her.

And that smile, those eyes, her steady hands adjusting her own coat. It was all so right, so fitting in the image she had of Maria, that it seemed just natural that Natasha would be the one to step forward, to raise up on her toes and to kiss Maria's cheek.

“I'll see you soon,” Natasha promised and smiled. 

  


Maria smiled like she had a secret. If it kept making her smile like that, Natasha hoped she would never tell her what it was.

“Not soon enough,” Maria countered, “but eventually.”

They said goodbye like that and Natasha got into an alley and back to Fury as soon as she could do so without being seen.

**[April 16** **th** **, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Natasha got back, handed him the flash drive and said nothing at all.

“Did you have any trouble?”

“No, sir. I did a couple of hours of surveillance to be sure nobody was onto me, then recovered it and made sure I wasn't being watched before jumping back. Fours hours or so, I guess? It went pretty smoothly.”

“Yes, it was give or take four seconds,” he agreed with her evaluation.

Natasha nodded. She did it in an hour and spent three with Maria, instead. But Fury didn't need to know that.

“You can keep the clothes and IDs in case you need them. The cash, too.”

“Why would I need them, sir?”

“Because you're going on another mission tomorrow, if you're feeling up for it.”

She frowned. So he wasn't onto her? And not only he wasn't throwing her in jail, but he was letting her use her powers again the next day?

“Is that a problem?”

Natasha shook her head and held her wrists up. Fury put the handcuffs back on them, one first, then the other. 

  


“Dismissed.”

She turned on her heels and left the room without a second thought.

  


  


**[April 17** **th** **, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Fury gave her data placement for her mission the next day.

She did it in twenty minutes. It was too easy, she knew it was. But that was a problem for when she got back and, after finishing her mission, there was only one place she wanted to go while she had the time.

**[June 2** **nd** **, 2001 – New York City]**

She actually managed to find a dress and change into it, stashing the civilian clothes Fury gave her along with her shoes, sunglasses and everything else, inside a rented motel. She changed and headed to Maria's hotel just in time to pick her up at seven sharp as they agreed.

When Maria opened the door and got out, Natasha knew instantly it was the right choice to show up. The way Maria's face lit up when she saw her waiting was worth it. The risk she was taking was nothing compared to that smile.

She was wearing a shirt the same color of her eyes and black pants with oxford shoes. She looked breathtaking with her hair down in waves.

“I guess seven is the time you appear out of nowhere, uh?” Maria teased her with a smile and kissed her cheek. Natasha felt like she would never get used to that softness.

“I was just really in the mood for French.”

She could actually see the moment Maria stopped herself from making a pun about what she just said and instead smiled a little more than usual and offered her hand to Natasha.

“We're taking a cab,” she stated, “I already called us one, shall we?”

Natasha smiled and nodded. “Are you trying to impress me, Hill?”

“It's only fair with how impressive you are, Romanoff.”

They got in the cab and as Maria stated the address and the man started driving, Natasha realized self-consciously that she was still holding Maria's hand. The other woman didn't seem to mind, so she kept holding it all thorough the drive.

They stayed silent but it wasn't uncomfortable. When they arrived, ten minutes later or so, Maria paid the driver before Natasha could offer to and led her out of the car and to the restaurant entrance.

“You've built up quite a bit of muscle mass,” she noted as Maria walked in front of her and Natasha could see the outline of her back muscles beneath her shirt. “The army is really training you hard, aren't they?”

She still remembered that skinny kid she saw a few months back, when she escaped from under Bezukhov's eyes. Even the day before – which for Maria was three months prior, actually – she wasn't that well built.

Natasha could literally see her turn into the woman she knew little by little.

“Yeah, they keep you on your toes. How's the super secret spy job going?”

“Still super secret.”

“And as for the freedom?”

“Still looking for it. Fell in love endlessly yet?”

Maria turned and smirked. That secret smirk of hers. She held the door for Natasha and they went inside, Maria told the waiter she had a reservation and they were escorted to their table.

They sat down and the waiter left them with the menus.

“You know, I've been thinking about you these past few months,” Maria admitted while looking down at her menu like she was really engrossed in the reading and just casually uttered those words as if it was no big deal. “I think I'll have,” she hummed, “Côte d'agneau et légumes grillés?” She squinted at the menu. “Did I say that even remotely right?”

“You said that perfectly,” Natasha lied with a smile, but she didn't have the heart to tell Maria how badly she spelled agneau. “I was thinking maybe the poulet à la moutarde et au miel,” she said with impeccable accent and closed the menu.

“Well now I feel like an idiot. You're ordering my thing, too, with your flawless accent. I like this Provence girl side of you.”

“I've been thinking about you, too,” Natasha admitted softly.

Maria looked up at her, all plates instantly forgotten.

Natasha couldn't tell her that she'd been thinking about her for months, because they met the day before for her. But she could honestly say Maria had never left her mind since they tried all those pies just so she could prove a point.

“So, do you prefer red or white?” Maria asked.

“I prefer water, kid. You're too young and I won't buy you alcohol.” Natasha raised an eyebrow.

Maria smirked. “Can't say I was aiming at that but, sure, water for the both of us it is, then.”

When the waiter came Natasha ordered for both of them and as they talked the time flew by too quickly, between whispered truths and loud laughs.

“You brighten up a whole room with that smile of yours,” Maria told her.

Natasha desperately wanted to tell her that, despite the fact that she could be anywhere in time and space, there was nothing she would chose over Maria misspelling French words and telling her stories about a faded hometown. But she couldn't.

So she smiled, instead. And said “You're the only one who makes me smile like a child.”

“Sometimes we can be childish.” Maria's hand landed on hers on the table.

_Yes_ , Natasha thought. _Let's hold hands and play hide and seek because I'll seek you to the end of the world, you can kiss me on the cheek and we can blush like kids, we can make a fort and lay inside with a torch and tell ghosts stories and eat ice cream. We can be childish and fall in love. And then grow up when it ends, grow old and grow tired and grow apart. But now? We can be childish just for now._

They walked through the streets of New York holding hands, Natasha felt like the anticipation would kill her. What was the future Maria so torn over? What had happened between them, what was their story about, how long did it go on for? All her questions were gone the moment Maria turned to her with a sheepish smile. What was the mistake that made Natasha lose all that magic she was feeling right then?

She could have moved away, if she wanted to. There was room and there was time and God knew Maria gave her all the possibilities to turn her head, but Natasha didn't.

Their first kiss was a gentle brushing of soft lips.

It was the light Natasha was never allowed to have when she was a kid and Bezukhov would seal her room so it would be pitch black. Kissing Maria was as if a night light in that dark room was turned on suddenly, it was almost all too bright and she could see all the monsters that haunted the dark inside her own soul. They weren't as scary when Maria was there to shine that light on those, on her, on them.

“Goodnight. And thanks for walking me back.”

“When will I see you again?”

Maria smirked. “I thought you figured it already.”

“Three months from now, September 2nd, Seven o'clock. I'll make the reservation this time,” she told her and smiled as Maria smiled at her.

Watching Maria go back inside she asked herself why was she still coming to visit this woman when she wasn't supposed to and she had no reason to. No reason at all. No reason beyond the racing heartbeat in her chest and the smile still playing on her lips.

Could she keep doing this just because it made her... _happy_?

Natasha thought she probably wasn't allowed to be happy. No Devil ever is. Yet, she already knew that given the chance she was going to be there, seven o'clock, seeing Maria again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought! For any questions you might have about the plot, the dates, the timelines, etc, feel free to ask me anything either here or on my [Tumblr](http://thetruthaboutlovecomesat3am.tumblr.com/)!


	11. ...and Waited...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 1998 - 2007: Natalia's years in the Red Room; São Paulo, Hospital Fire, Drakov's daughter  
> |  
> ○ → 2006, December 3rd : Natalia jumps back to 2000 where she meets Maria Hill  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 8th-9th : The Black Widow turns herself in and is brought to the Helicarrier  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 11th : Natalia jumps to 1990 and encounters an eight years old Maria Hill  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 16th -17th: Natasha jumps to 2001 and meets Maria on March 3rd and June 2nd

**[April 18th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Tony Stark went to the Helicarrier every once in a blue moon, to see if his inventions and money were all put to good use, have a chat with Coulson, ask Hill out on a date, get rejected by her every single time before heading out.

It was almost routine.

Except, this time, Fury's orders were to keep him away from the Web Thread. The news that The Devil's Keeper was amongst them had been kept a secret and Nick wanted very much for it to stay that way. Tony Stark was not a man you trusted with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s level of secrets.

“No big deal, Maria will meet him before he starts going around. When he asks her out, she'll say yes and they'll go have lunch. He'll forget about everything else,” Sharon shrugged it off, “it's the only reason he keeps coming anyway.”

Maria rolled her eyes and sighed.

“You have a better plan?” Coulson asked her.

Her lips were pressed so tightly together that they almost entirely disappeared.

“Then Sharon's plan it is. Take one for the team and have lunch with him, would you?” Phil begged her.

“Yes, take one for the team and have lunch with a billionaire philanthropist. A genius and inventor, by the way,” Clint mocked her. “Poor you, great food and amicable company, what a rough short stick you draw.”

“Wanna go instead?” Maria offered immediately, not bothering to hide her half-disgusted face.

“He's not attracted to me,” Clint mocked again, “or I would go without complaining this much.”

Maria rolled her eyes and pushed her lips together again, but didn't refuse. Natasha stayed silent but felt like punching a wall. Fury came in and told her he had another mission for her, another data retrieval they missed that Natasha could recover. She bolted from the room, glad she wouldn't have to be there and watch Hill seduce a dude into a lunch date.

**[September 1st, 2001 – New York City]**

She recovered the flash drive in record time, then jumped back to the day before their date to make a few reservations and arrangements for the perfect date, then jumped right to the time they had to meet.

Maria was already waiting for her. She was wearing jeans, a white shirt, and a bright smile.

“You look...” _Drop-dead gorgeous, jaw-droppingly beautiful, super toned, and are those_ abs _I can see through your white shirt because_ damn _,_ “...Rested. Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, this hotel has the nicest mattress, at least if you're used to sleeping in a bumpy old bed. You should try this one sometime,” Maria told her with a smile. Then her eyes widened slightly and her smiled vanished. “Oh, I didn't mean-”

“Sure you didn't, Hill. Come on, I made us a reservation.”

Natasha smirked teasingly at her while taking her hand and walking her down the street. They walked in silence for a while, exchanging glances and smiles.

“Hey, I've been meaning to ask you, you never told me where are you from?” Maria asked her randomly.

“I'm from Saint Petersburg. From around there, actually.”

“Wait, you're from Russia? But your accent,” Maria frowned, “and by that I mean your lack of an accent. I'm surprised, that's all.”

“The people who raised me were very keen on making me speak English perfectly.”

Maria just frowned at her and Natasha shrugged. Her heart was practically hammering in her throat, but it was just as good of a time as any for something as heavy as that.

“My parents died when I was four. So did my brothers.”

“Oh my God.” Maria whispered and stopped, pulling on her hand until Natasha turned to look at her. “I'm truly sorry.”

“It was a long time ago,” she shrugged. But Maria kept looking at her, not with pity or compassion but with understanding shining in her eyes. “Thank you.”

“Do you remember them?”

She took a deep breath. “I remember some things about them, about that night. I remember Mikhail calling for my mom while he was laying on the ground, covered in blood. He was the littlest one. I don't really wanna talk about it.”

“No, I totally get it, okay? Don't ever feel pressured, this isn't an interrogation, just say you don't wanna talk about it and I'll back off. I'm sorry, Nat.”

Maria, wonderful Maria, perfectly understanding what she was feeling, called her by that nickname, and hugged Natasha close to herself, a hand around her waist and another gently wrapped around her shoulders.

Natasha was paralyzed for two whole seconds.

Then hugged her back just a little before stepping back almost immediately.

“Come on, I've got a surprise,” she tugged on Maria's hand, leading her to the end of the block, “But before I tell you what it is I have one question for you: how do you feel about bikes?”

Maria laughed at her. “I feel like I don't have enough money to afford one. For now. Plus they're not very practical and I'm a very pragmatic person.”

“I thought you might say that,” Natasha smirked. “So I rented us this baby.”

She stopped suddenly and Maria just stared at her, raising an eyebrow. Natasha nodded to her left, so Maria turned and immediately noted that parked on the side of the road there was a-

“That's a Ducati Monster 900 Special.”

Natasha snorted. “Pragmatic my ass, you're dying to get your hands on it.”

Maria scoffed at her, but didn't look away from the bike. “Well, I said I wouldn't buy it. Not that I didn't want to.”

Natasha smiled, satisfied with herself. The super spy that she was, she’d actually noticed Maria side glancing at motorcycles every now and then, eyes lingering and she would shake her head the tiniest bit-- like she wanted to shake a thought out of her mind. But Natasha had some money that the Red Room stashed away for her in the early nineties, and she had finally found something to spend those on.

She stepped forward and grabbed an helmet, throwing it to Maria, then taking the other for herself while showing her the keys dangling from her index.

“I'll drive us there and you can drive us back. Deal?”

“Deal,” Maria nodded immediately.

Natasha smirked and got onto the bike, then put on her helmet. Maria got on behind her and as Natasha started the engine, she straddled the bike, and grasped the back handles. Natasha admittedly felt a little sad that Maria knew enough about bikes to know about them, and consequently not cling to her during the ride.

When they got to the restaurant Natasha booked, Maria got off the bike and took off the helmet, just to turn to her with a huge smile on her face.

“That was awesome!” Maria smiled.

Natasha smirked. “I'm glad you liked the ride. We should get in, it's half past seven, so we're a little late.”

“You made us a dinner reservation for seven?”

Natasha turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “Not quite.”

She turned to the entrance and walked without turning back, sure that Maria would follow her. As they headed inside Maria noticed Natasha actually had keys to the place and unlocked it herself.

“Are we breaking into a restaurant?” Maria asked in a skeptic tone.

Natasha turned, looked her up and down, then scoffed. “I know the owner, he agreed to let me have the place for the night since he's on a vacation. It's a diner, so don't expect much. But neither of us have an apartment here and I really, really wanted you to fulfill that promise you made to me, so...” she gestured for Maria to get inside, then followed her in and closed the door.

Maria walked to the only table with a bag on it and peeked inside. She only had to look at the ingredients briefly before she pieced it together.

“You want me to cook you lasagna?” Maria raised an eyebrow and turned to her slowly.

Natasha's heart dropped to her feet and her smile vanished instantly. Was it sexist? Was it pretentious? Was it not at all as romantic as she envisioned and was instead just a dick move that she didn't just book them a table in a nice restaurant? Was Maria going to be upset  and never want to see Natasha again?

“I wouldn't have worn a white shirt if I knew,” was the only thing Maria pointed out, “but this shirt is well worth a ride in a Ducati.” She smirked as she unbuttoned her cuffs and rolled up her sleeves. “You're going to help, though.”

“I was really hoping you'd let me,” Natasha let a breath of relief escape her lips as she walked to the table and picked up the bag, bringing it to the kitchen in the back.

They started cooking together and Maria explained what they were doing to her step by step. When they eventually got to start putting stuff in the tray – Natasha imagined they were close to being done – Maria stepped behind her and took her hands.

“See, if you do it like this, the layers won’t be too big and-”

She turned to look at Natasha just as Natasha twisted in time to meet Maria’s gaze and suddenly they found themselves almost nose to nose. They looked each other in the eyes but when Natasha's eyes dropped to her lips, Maria bowed her head a little. Natasha's chin rose up and they met halfway.

They always ended up meeting halfway, after all. It was only fitting.

Natasha had started having feelings for Commander Hill the moment she went asking to turn herself in, and Maria was ready to help her no matter the cost. She already had feelings for Maria when Natasha decided she was actually going back to meet her for that date, after all. She wasn't in love, not yet, but she knew she could be. She had a connection with Maria but it had only been three days, not much had changed. She was half in love with the Commander, and half in love with that eighteen years old girl, and she felt like she could fall in love, one day, with every single part of Maria.

Maria had met Natasha a total of four times at that point, but she thought about her on her dark and silent nights in a bunk bed in West Point, when nobody was there to take her hand and tell her she was going to make it through. Maria lived her life alone, but Natasha had been a constant thought. That red-haired woman forced herself into Maria’s mind for the past nine months. One day, when she was older and wiser, Maria would say that eighteen years of age was too young for a person to fall in love. 

The truth is, everyone falls in love at the same speed. The brain chemicals  take only a couple of seconds to decide on the person they're going to fall in love with. Maybe eighteen year olds just have the guts to admit it quicker.

It had been three days for Natasha and nine months for Maria.

But Natasha had walked in with some feelings while Maria developed them along the way and they met halfway through.

Maria's lips were gentle and anchoring. Her left hand was still holding Natasha's – and half a lasagna layer – while her right hand landed on Natasha's stomach. Their lips parted and Natasha backed a little into Maria so she could get closer, she rose up on her toes to have a better angle. And in doing so Maria's hand shifted a little and fell lower, and a little to the left, right above her scar.

She grabbed Maria's hand with her free one and broke the kiss a little harshly.

“I'm sorry, I-”

“Don't be, please. You did nothing wrong.”

Natasha wanted Maria to believe her, but she couldn't easily explain to her how Natasha had been shot by a super soldier - who was technically now dead - to  kill a nuclear engineer she had been protecting. Moreover, how could she explain that the supersoldier was working for a Soviet organization that Natasha would also work for two decades in the future?

“I have a scar there. I have some bad memories associated with it.”

Maria bowed her head again and kissed her neck tenderly just once.

“I'm sorry,” she told her quietly. Even without looking at her, Natasha recognized her tone. There was no pity, no fake sympathy, just someone who understood what she was talking about and wasn't pressuring her to share more. “Anyway, now that the bottom layer is done, we put the sauce, then another layer. Like this.”

They went back to making the lasagna and Natasha was both really glad that Maria could understand her so well. At the same time, she  was really sad that she had broken that amazing kiss because of a stupid memory that was bothering her. The past was in the past, while Maria was right there.

Eventually, the tray was done and they put that in the oven and cleaned up the counter.

“Now we just have to wait. And my shirt didn't even get stained!” Maria told her almost smugly.

Natasha smirked. “There's still time.”

Maria laughed and shrugged, while sliding on a booth on one of the diner tables. Natasha _could_ have sat in front of her. Instead, she slid right beside her.

“Hey can I ask you something? Why did you go through all this trouble instead of just booking a table somewhere and be done with it?” Maria asked her, as Natasha scooted a little closer.

“Well,” she sighed, hoping she wouldn't freak Maria out, “you said your grandmother taught you how to cook. It gave me the impression you're quite fond of those memories and that you enjoy it. I imagine you don't do a lot of cooking in the army or in that hotel you're always at, so I figured you might enjoy the chance to take the time to cook something you like that brings back good memories,” she shrugged a little.

“You pay a lot of attention, don't you? Even when it seems like you're not.”

Natasha shrugged again. Then she smiled and scooted closer, turning to Maria and putting her legs on top of the booth they were sitting on, so hers would rest across Maria's. Maria smiled and put a hand on her knee.

“What's your favorite book?”

Maria was visibly startled by the question, but she quickly recovered and thought about it for a couple of seconds.

“I guess... 1984 by George Orwell if I had to pick just one. The idea that a government can be like that is shattering. At least, it should be. A leader should serve the people.”

“Is that why you enlisted? The need to make sure there's never a dictator in charge?”

“Defending democracy is a priority, yes. Have you read it?”

“I have.”

“Do you remember how it ends? I think that is the scariest part. The fact that with the right amount of commitment you can change someone's believes so deeply, makes you wonder why you believe the things you do. Or whose ideas are the ones running through your own mind.”

“Are bad people really bad or are you just accepting the opinion of someone who taught you as much?” Natasha questioned rhetorically.

“Exactly,” Maria nodded. “What's your favorite book?”

Natasha smiled at her. “The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde.”

“Really?” Maria frowned and raised an eyebrow at her, turning her head.

“What were you expecting, Anna Karenina?”

Maria laughed and rolled her eyes. “Maybe. I wasn't expecting that one, for sure. How come?”

“I just like the idea of a painting aging or even absorbing the bad things you do,” she shrugged. Maria laughed, but she kept talking with a smile. “Imagine having a painting that captures the very essence of you and you look at it everyday. You study your own features, your own eyes, until you know it by heart. Then you look at yourself in the mirror and you recognize those emotions, you know what you're really feeling even if others don't and misinterpret it as something completely different. But you know. You've always known the story those eyes tell.”

“You and I have a completely different memory of that book,” Maria eyed her carefully. “But actually, what you just said, reminded me of a legend my grandma used to tell me,” she frowned and thought back to those days. “There's this painting, it's pretty famous if you come from a family where-” she abruptly stopped herself.

“Where there are Inhumans?” Natasha finished it for her. “Do you?” she feigned curiosity and acted like she didn't already know.

Maria didn't confirm nor deny. “My grandma was into that stuff,” she chuckled and waved a hand as to dismiss it. “She used to call it-” she thought about it for a long moment. “The something mistress? I don't know.”

“The Devil's Keeper,” Natasha corrected her lightheartedly. “Time-travel Inhuman. If you believe that sort of thing. Quite the legend in Eastern Europe, I know a lot about that.”

“Really?” Maria smirked, impressed.

The oven alarm went off and made them both turn towards it.

“Saved by the bell,” Natasha smirked. “I'll tell you all about it some other time. For now, let's just eat some lasagna while you tell me all about your favorite movie.”

She got up and offered her hand to Maria after she rose as well. Maria took it and led her back to the kitchen with a smile.

They ate and talked about random topics like sports and politics and fantasy novels. Natasha had never felt this comfortable without being somebody else and giving fake answers before. But Maria made being honest feel easy, she made her want to talk about herself. That never happened to her before. And even if it wasn't important information, those were still details about herself she never chose to share before.

She trusted Maria with them.

“So, you know, West Point isn't extremely strict about leaves of absence. If you were in town again sometime soon, we could meet again.”

“A date every three months isn't cutting it for you anymore?” Natasha teased her.

Maria smiled back, but it wasn't that sincere. It made the redhead frown.

“I'm scheduled to leave before Christmas for my first tour. Army, you know. They send you as soon as you're ready and apparently I am.”

“Where to?”

“Afghanistan.”

Natasha knew what was about to happen. She felt her own heart drop into her stomach. It was the third of September. A few days later, right there in that city, everything would be changed forever by a plane crash. The tours would be anticipated, Maria's too, probably. She would leave at best mid-October and at worst in two weeks from then. Natasha might not have the chance to see her again in three months.

“I have to be back here on the 15th, in two weeks. Wanna go sightseeing?”

Maria smirked, then chuckled and that time Natasha could tell she wasn't faking it.

“Who knew all I had to do to see more of you was ask. I was starting to think you were married with a secret second life.”

Natasha smiled back and took Maria's free hand with the one she wasn't using to hold her fork. Maria intertwined their fingers and kept eating.

“Who says I'm not?” Natasha said in a serious tone.

Maria's eyes shot to her and her expression was so priceless Natasha couldn't help but snort a little. Then, when Maria slapped her hand, she broke in a full laugh.

“I'm not married. Why? You interested?”

It was Maria's turn to laugh. “It's a little early to propose, don't you think?” She raised an eyebrow and resumed eating. “Maybe someday, when I know everything about you and you know everything about me, and the time is right.” She shrugged.

“Eat your dinner, hold my hand, and shut up, Maria,” Natasha told her in an even tone, letting her know she wasn't appreciating that joke, even though the glint in her eyes said something different to Maria.

“Yes ma'am,” she smirked and took Natasha's hand back into hers.

Natasha knew something terrible was coming. But maybe, just for a little while longer, life could be that easy, life could be that happy. _They_ could be that happy.

**[April 18th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Maria adjusted her chair and laid her napkin on her legs and listened as the waiter listed the wines to Stark. She noticed how Tony would keep gesturing to him to keep him off their case while she tried to decide on something but just couldn't bring herself to read more than half a word without her brain going to the conversation she had with Fury right before leaving.

He was letting Natasha jump again. Apparently, Fitz and Simmons were monitoring her to make sure she landed on the place and time they told her to and so far there had been no problems, but something was off and she had to figure out what exactly.

“Decided on anything yet?”

The waited asked while approaching the table yet again.

Maria just picked something out of the first courses and handed him the menu when Tony did the same.

“So, Phil was telling me about that new project you're-”

“Let's not talk about work,” Tony smiled at her, “it took me two years and a dozen of tries to finally get you to have lunch with me, I don't want to sit here while you praise my ability to not completely let my father's money go to waste.”

“Right.” Maria murmured and smiled politely. “What would you like to talk about?”

“Please don't do the fake smile thing,” he grimaced a little. “Have you ever wondered why I kept asking you out?”

Maria tried her best not to bite her lip. _Oh, what the hell._

“Honestly, yes. I'm not as attractive as the other women you've been known to sleep with. I'm not a nice, caring woman with an heart of gold you can use for a publicity stunt to gain points with the public. And I'm not interested in a job offer if that's what this is about.”

Tony just smiled a little. Maria Hill was passionate, driven, some would say perhaps cold and calculative but he never thought about those as flaws. She was assertive, decisive, and straightforward.

“I've had the pleasure to meet a man, a few years back, Commander Ian McGriffith. You two were promoted together. Served together.”

Maria's jaw twitched. Her eyes didn't dart away, she didn't avoid eye contact, she just kept looking at Stark.

“He told me how you saved his life, how he lost his right leg and left arm under half a wall in Iraq. You both got a promotion and a medal. He speaks very highly of you.”

“Get to the point, please.”

“There is no point, Maria. You're brave, fierce, assertive, tenacious. You already know how strong you are, I'm not here to shake your hand and state the obvious. I asked you on a date because I want to date you. Not someone with a heart of gold or whatever it was you said. I'm fine with the person I have in front of me being exactly herself,” he pointed out and gestured at her. “My angle here is that I have no angle. The date is just a date.”

“Ah.”

“Yes.”

“Right.”

There was a long moment of silence.

“How was Belgium?” Tony asked her.

“Fine,” she answered curtly. She was about to sputter out half of a mission report about how there were no casualties and everything went according to plan. She wasn't used to dates anymore, that was for sure. “I found the weather quite peculiar.”

“Really?” Tony chuckled a little. “How so?”

The engaged in a regular conversation, one a couple of civilians could have had.

They ate, chatted, drank, then he escorted her back to the Quinjet they took to get there and said his goodbye with a kiss on the lips. It was gentler than what she anticipated, and his beard tickled her lips but the contact was over a little too quickly for her to have the time to decide if it bothered her or charmed her.

“I'll call you, if that's okay.”

Maria nodded once, without smiling. “I might be busy.”

“I'll call again, then.”

“I might-” she mulled over the words “-be busy for a while.”

“When you're over them, then. Whoever they are. Let's say, when you're ready, you'll be the one to call me.”

There was another pause. “I might never be ready.”

“That's alright, too, Maria,” he smiled. Then left after a longer, deeper kiss. “Whatever reason Phil had to send you to distract me, thank him on my behalf.”

When she got back to the Helicarrier, Sharon was waiting for her just outside of her room. She didn't ask, Maria already knew what she wanted to hear. She opened the door and they got inside, she heard Sharon closing it back behind herself.

“We went to a nice restaurant. He waited patiently as I ordered and it took me a while, but he didn't comment on that. He was always interesting and interested in what I had to say. When he took me back he kissed me and I kissed him back.”

“You kissed Tony Stark?” Sharon asked, a little baffled.

“I did. Twice. The second one was-” she sighed. “Tony Stark knows how to kiss. It was really nice and he was really nice but I felt sick the whole time. I felt nauseous and out of place sitting in that classy restaurant, drinking a wine worth half my salary, talking about how the man I was on a date with has a plan to reverse global warming.”

Sharon walked to the bed and sat down on the edge. Maria sat next to her a couple of seconds later, looking down.

“He was nice,” she repeated, “more than nice. He just wasn't Natasha.”

Her voice trembled almost inaudibly at the end of that sentence and if Sharon hadn't known who she was talking to, she would have thought Maria was about to cry.

“She once handed me the keys of a new Ducati after a date and let me drive that bike across New York City to my hotel and I almost killed us both. She taught me how to ride motorcycles as well as I do now. It was all I’d ever wanted when I was eighteen and even when she didn't know me yet, she knew already how to make me happy. How can someone _ever_ compare to that?”

“How did she know?”

“She paid attention. She thought about what to do together and she always knew how to go about it. This? Expensive lunch dates? She could have done that and eighteen year old me would have been impressed but not happy. Even now I'm impressed but-” she shook her head and sighed. “I'm not happy. Not without her.”

“What did she do?” Sharon whispered. “I never felt like I could ask before, I know how torn you were about this girl when we first met. How brokenhearted you'd been and I watched you recover step by step. But you're back there now. You and her – there's still something there.”

Maria tightened her jaw and swallowed hard. She nodded, just once. “There will always be something between us. What we had can never fade. It couldn't in years and now that she's back in my life, it probably never will.”

“But the way you talked about her, about what happened between you two,” Sharon shook her head, narrowing her eyes. “I don't get it, I thought she was-” she couldn't finish that sentence.

“I thought she was dead, too.” Maria finished it for her. “That's what I can never forgive her. She knew I'd look for her and she knew that with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s resources I would eventually find out about her. So she found a way to make me stop looking. She made me think she was dead, all this time. She wasn't, I was mourning her and she was just here working with me.”

Sharon was trying to process all of that, but it was hard to understand. Maria didn't understand it either, if she was being honest.

“All I know is she's here now. And she's going to pretend to fall in love with me soon, for some reason. And whatever reason that is, I know already it's not going to be good enough.”

She could never forgive Natasha for making her fall in love with her, while Natasha was only pretending to love her back. She would never forgive the cruelty of the false hope that Natasha had given her. Maria had thought that she’d finally found someone who would always love her unconditionally. Someone she belonged to. Someone to be her home. Only to have that hope ripped away when Maria discovered that nothing that happened between them was real.

At the same moment, on the opposite side of the Helicarrier, Natasha was coming back from the jump after teaching Maria how to properly drive a bike. She was living all those memories Maria already had, all those happy moments, those smiles, those kisses. She had no idea how to make her understand she had never been faking, not even a single second.

Her time with Maria was the only time she felt absolutely herself.


	12. ...and Waited No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 1998 - 2007: Natalia's years in the Red Room; São Paulo, Hospital Fire, Drakov's daughter  
> |  
> ○ → 2006, December 3rd : Natalia jumps back to 2000 where she meets Maria Hill  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 8th-9th : The Black Widow turns herself in and is brought to the Helicarrier  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 11th : Natalia jumps to 1990 and encounters an eight years old Maria Hill  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 16th -17th: Natasha jumps to 2001 and meets Maria on March 3rd and June 2nd  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 18th: Maria has lunch with Tony Stark, Natasha jumps back to 2001, September 1st

**[April 19th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Until recently, Natasha wasn't allowed into the gym. She’d received clearance a few days back, and in order to avoid prying eyes, she usually went really early in the mornings. She’d never ran into anyone thus far. 

At least until _that_ day.

Back from her mission and unable to sleep, Maria had decided to train as well.

When Natasha walked in, Maria was throwing punches at a sack hard enough that Natasha wondered if she was actively trying to break it. Natasha could have stayed quiet, or she could have backed right out. Instead, she let go of the door so it would bounce back and shut loudly.

Maria turned towards the noise and saw Natasha standing there, already changed into workout gear. Maria turned back and started boxing again.

Natasha walked towards her silently, not feeling irritated in the slightest that Maria wouldn't even greet her. It wasn't bothering her _at all_.

She started stretching.

“How was Belgium?”

Maria paused. “There were no casualties.” She hit the sack again, then paused again, realizing that it wasn't what Natasha was asking her. “The weather was weird, super dry and really hot, apparently it was the warmest April in decades.”

“You do have a smile that could warm up a whole country,” Natasha smirked.

Maria stopped. Blinked. Then turned.

Natasha’s smirk still held. “Wanna spar?” She gestured with her head towards the mats.

“Sure,” Maria said evenly, following her to the ring. “So I can kick your ass for that joke,”

Natasha smiled as she fell into a fighting stance and waited for Maria to do the same. “How was your date with Tony Stark?”

Maria looked surprised for a split second, then mimicked her stance. “It was nice. He was nice.”

“Just nice?”

“We kissed.”

Natasha hesitated for a single fraction of second, and Maria used that to attempt a light punch. Natasha dodged it quickly and moved aside, trying for a low kick that made Maria jump back.

“Good. That's good. Is he as charming as his one night stands say?” Natasha asked as she went for a combo of three punches that Maria blocked or dodged.

“He's one of the smartest men alive.”

Maria tried again and again to land a punch, but Natasha weaved and dodged every blow, simply a natural in defense. They both managed to exchange a couple of hits, eventually.

“When are you seeing him again?”

“He drops by every once in awhile to check on his investments.”

“Sounds _so_ romantic.”

They started to feel slightly tired by the time the first three people walked in and headed for the changing room, glancing in their direction first and muttering something.

“We should-” Maria's words were rudely interrupted when Natasha swiftly used her shoulder as leverage to jump mid air, wrap her legs around Maria's neck and bring her down with her back to the mat.

Maria stood there, looking up at the ceiling, the breath knocked out of her and Natasha's face standing above her-- just like a vision. Maybe it was the fact that her head had violently collided with the mat, but right then and there, she looked just like _her_ Natasha, just like she’d remembered her.

She stood up immediately, her head a little dizzy.

“That was cheating.”

“No, it wasn't. You're just slow.”

Natasha got off the mat gracefully and headed for the door. Maria shook her head, then followed her. They walked side by side to the part of the Helicarrier where their rooms were located.

“You rejected him,” Natasha stated.

“No, I kissed him back.”

“Sure. But you don't think there will be a second date.”

She was getting quite good at reading Maria's half sentences and body language. She was confident she could assess what was happening.

“He's really nice and I respect him, as annoying and self-centered as he is. I just,” she shrugged and didn't know how to finish that sentence.

“Wouldn't start a war to get him back?” Natasha finished it for her.

Maria clenched her jaw. She couldn't tell her the only person she would ever start a war for was right by her side. Yet, Natasha already seemed to know.

“We're finally in the same place, Natasha,” Maria stated firmly.

“The Helicarrier? Yes, we sure are.”

“No, I meant, we're at the same point with each other. You don't have feelings for me and I,” she clenched her jaw again and shrugged a little, “I don't have feelings for you. You don't have to worry about what kind of past we have, because you were right, I was mad that you didn't show up for our date. We only met once. I was holding a grudge and now I'm over it.”

Natasha tried not to react externally, even though she could feel her heart pounding and her brain reeling. Maria was lying and Natasha knew it.

“We don't have to do this. We don't have to be friends or,” Maria sighed. “Or something else. We don't have to talk about Stark. You told me that we can't cling to the past so much, right? We move forward.”

Natasha could literally say nothing without exposing her trip to the past – which, Fury never consented to.

“How did you know about Mikhail?”

“An old file we found in one of the Red Room's facilities.”

“They didn't have a file about me.”

“Not that you know of, maybe.”

There was nothing to say to that. Was it probable? Not at all. But was it possible? Sadly, yes.

“If you ever-” Maria started, then stopped. She sighed a little, then came to a halt in front of her room. Natasha stopped as well and waited. “I kissed you on the cheek that night. If I ever did something that made you uncomfortable which you went with just because you had to, just because I was your mission...” she inhaled deeply, Natasha didn't give her the time to go on.

“You were never a mission to me. Not even that first night when I came to you from a Red Room facility of my own free will. Whatever happened to us, it was real, it was _me_. Whatever we had was real, Maria. Everything that happened, I did because I wanted to. Never doubt that what we had was the truest thing to ever happen to me. I felt more like myself that night under the New York City snow than I ever did before.”

Maria just looked at her, eyes doubtful and distant, until Natasha felt overwhelmed; like she couldn't read what the brunette was thinking, not right now. So she opted to turn around and leave for her room to take a much needed shower.

Maria watched her go, silent.

**[September 15th, 2001 – New York City]**

Maria was already waiting for her, pacing the sidewalk in front of the hotel when Natasha got there at seven sharp. She frowned, it wasn't like Maria to be anything less than stern, even while waiting..

When their eyes met, she saw the brunette sigh in relief and her shoulders relaxed a little. She rushed to Natasha and hugged her tightly. While Natasha felt even more and more confused, she returned the hug.

“I'm glad you're alright.”

“Maria, what are you talking about?”

“Look, I'm not mad, you don't have to lie.”

“I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about,” Natasha assured her.

Maria frowned, let her go, and looked at Natasha to assess her honesty.

“I saw some footage on the news, you there on Monday, pulling people out of the ruins. I'm pretty sure it was you.”

Natasha frowned and looked at her like she was crazy. “You saw me there? Here, in New York, on Monday?”

“I saw your face, I saw you on the background of a news report.”

Natasha shook her head. “I was in Paris, I’d left after our date and,” she fished into her pocket and handed Maria a miniature of the Tour Eiffel. “I brought you this, I thought of you while I was there.”

It was true. Fury sent her there for yet another data retrieval, and since she'd never been to Paris, she decided to take a look around. When she went to the tower and looked up in awe, smiling, she had had this urge to turn and look for Maria, just to take a picture or share in the moment with her. She wanted to share that view with Maria and she didn't understand why it mattered so much to her what Maria thought about the Tour Eiffel, but it did.

Maria held the little miniature in her hand and looked at it for a long moment.

“I was sure I saw you,” she muttered under her breath.

“I promise you, I wasn't there. I would have told you I was in town, Maria.”

Maria shook her head, still looking down. “You wouldn't have had to, Nat. It would have been fine if you didn't, I was just worried that you were harmed. But you look alright.” She looked up and smiled a little.

“I am, I promise.” Natasha took her hand, returning the small smile.

“Have you heard the crazy theories around this?” Maria whispered, her smile gone.

“I did. There are conspiracy theories all around.”

Maria scoffed and shook her head. “Some idiots are blaming the Inhumans. Saying the Devil's Keeper was there.”

“That's actually the name of the painting, not the name of the woman.”

Maria’s frown deepened. Then she raised an eyebrow at her, “You weren't kidding, you really know a lot about that legend, don't you?”

Natasha looked around them discreetly. She sighed a little and was ready to shrug the question off, but Maria noticed her guarded assessment.

“What are you not telling me?”

Natasha inhaled deeply. What if she did tell her? What if she just told Maria she was the Black Widow, the Time Traveler, what if she changed the past? It could either change the future or destroy the world.

Natasha thought back to what she'd been taught. If the world worked by the rules she knew, she had already been there, with the very same opportunity to have this conversation with Maria, to tell her the truth. It would also mean that something had prevented her from doing so, because S.H.I.E.L.D Agent Maria Hill did not know that Natasha Romanoff was the Black Widow. 

But what if she actually discarded the decision like she was about to do then? What if she never actually tried to be honest with Maria? What if she could change their doomed destiny?

“Why don't we go to your room? Where we can talk privately?”

Maria stared at her for a very long while, trying to wrap her head around what had happened in such a short time. She was worried sick about Natasha, then they randomly started talking conspiracies, before Natasha invited herself up to her room.

“Sure. Let's do that.”

The elevator ride was silent and she could see Maria's eyes fixed on the floor number display, as she silently strode out of the elevator to her room, and even the way she took a fraction of second longer to turn the key of her room. 

That gave Natasha the impression that Maria was trying very hard to hide her nerves.

She closed the door behind them and put the keys on the table next to the entrance.

“Sorry, it's not really big and there's nowhere else to sit except for,” she paused as Natasha sat on the bed with both confidence and casualness in her movements. “Yeah.”

Maria took off her jacket and sat down next to her. She didn't say anything, but waited for Natasha to explain herself.

“The creator of the painting gave it that title. The Devil's Keeper. It was what people used to call the time traveler who would come in times of disgrace to do the Devil's bidding. The codename of the woman in that painting is The Black Widow, she's been called that because of the black web covering her face, and her red lipstick, the name has been associated with many different programs which strove to create female super soldiers, but none are particularly known, because they all pretty much failed epically. Except for, you know, the one organization which actually created her.”

“How do you know so much about her? About Inhumans? Most people think they're inherently bad.”

“That's idiotic, isn't it? It would be like claiming everyone coming from Colorado is evil. It makes no sense.”

“I agree. Inhumans aren't bad or evil, they're people and as everyone else there's good ones and there's bad ones.” Maria's voice was sure and steady. “And the Devil's Keeper, or the Black Widow, or whatever her name is,” there wasn't a single note of doubt, “she's the reason everyone thinks Inhumans are all evil. It only took one of them going around and destroying everything in her path, and suddenly people decided they were all rotten. It's so unfair.”

Natasha felt the air getting caught up in her throat, as Maria's decisive words registered.

“You think this is her fault? What people think of Inhumans?”

“Don't you?”

Natasha frowned. “I think she's another one of those misjudged people you're talking about, someone who could have been good if people didn't turn her into a weapon.”

“That's possible, I guess. There's really no recent sightings of her, if you don't count the conspiracy theories about what happened on Monday. And what's been known about her could have been biased, even if it seems improbable. Still, if she hadn't made a name for herself all thorough history, the rest of the Inhumans wouldn't have been so discriminated against.”

Natasha heard the rest Maria left unsaid: if there was no discrimination, Inhumans would have declared themselves as such. 

Maria's mother could have told her doctor about her vision, and sought the proper medical attentions she needed. 

Maria had reasons to blame the Black Widow for her mother's avoidable death. And it wouldn't have mattered how wrong she was, because everyone has its coping mechanisms... if only Natasha hadn't been the woman Maria was blaming.

Natasha couldn't tell her.

That was why Maria didn't know she was the Black Widow until the moment they captured her, because Natasha could never tell her.

That might also have been why Maria was so angry at her in the present day. Natasha had to talk to her about it when she went back to their present.

When she turned to Maria again, the brunette was smiling softly and staring at her hand. No, not at her hand, at something she was holding; the miniature Tour Eiffel.

Natasha turned and put her right hand, the one between them, steady on the mattress behind Maria's back, while her left landed on Maria's knee, so she could use her new position to get closer to the other woman.

“You're smiling.”

Maria raised her eyes so she could look into Natasha's, her soft smile still on her lips.

“You were in Paris, the most romantic city in the world, and you thought of me,” Maria explained. “How can I not smile?”

Natasha eyed her and raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever been to Paris?”

“No,” Maria drew out the word, a little confused by the question.

“Then how would you know that? Go to Paris, then go to Venice. Take your lover on a Gondola at sunset while you sip wine. Better yet, take them to Rome.”

Maria smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Seems like you've done that a lot.”

Natasha chuckled. “Not really. But maybe, someday, I'll get to travel on my free time and there's this girl I've got my eyes on that I'd really like to bring there.”

Maria tried not to smile at that and instead put up a curious expression. “Sounds like a good plan, do I know her?”

Natasha rolled her eyes and moved closer, her hand sliding a little higher on Maria's thigh, her lips gently kissing Maria's neck, before backing off slightly. Maria turned, their eyes meeting, and slowly both of their silly smiles disappeared.

“My tour got brought forward. I'm leaving in a few days. Even if I come back-”

“When you come back,”

Maria sighed. “I don't know when. And I might go back to Chicago for a while or they might send me somewhere else. How will you even find me?”

“I have my ways.”

Maria sighed again. “It shouldn't be this hard, Natasha.”

“What shouldn't be hard?”

The answer echoed in her mind but never made it to her lips. 

_Love_. Love shouldn't be hard, but it was. Their story was the most complicated one in history, Natasha knew that and Maria was only starting to figure that out. Yet, here they were, neither of them ready to back away from it.

“I don't think I know who you are,” Maria whispered almost worriedly, “not yet, at least.”

“ _It's okay,”_ Natasha wanted to tell her, “ _I don't think I knew who I was either, before I met you.”_

Instead, she backed off a little and started emptying her pockets.

“I didn't lie to you, Maria. I'm not allowed a phone, look at the only things they let me keep with me.”

There was some cash, some IDs, nothing else.

“FBI, uh?” Maria recognized the logo even if the badge was closed.

“I told you this.”

“You didn't say FBI,” Maria chuckled, but didn't make a move to grab the little stack of documents Natasha was showing her.

Natasha got up and, for a moment, Maria thought she would leave. Instead she put those on the nightstand and took off her jacket, making a show of how the pockets were now empty.

“You saw the name on that driving license, right?” Natasha pointed at the nightstand. “I'm Natasha Romanoff, I work for the US government and I'm not allowed a personal phone. I don't want anybody to trace me back to you.”

“I knew your job was dangerous, but I just thought you were exaggerating a little. I guess you weren't.”

“I can't leave the mission I'm on, Maria. My life-” - _your life-_ “ -depends on it. I'm risking everything just by being here. Can't that be enough, for now?”

What lingered in the space between them was the unspoken “ _now might be all we'll ever have_ ” that they were both aware about, but neither wanted to spell out.

Maria got up, too. She took Natasha's hand and kissed her gently.

Natasha knew it was a goodbye, she could taste it on her lips and, rather quickly, a wave of sorrow filled her heart, in a way she recognized even if she’d never felt anything quite like that before. She never got to say goodbye before, she always lost people suddenly. But Natasha was a ghost, Maria was leaving New York without knowing when she would be back, _if_ she would be back. And in addition to that, Maria blamed the Black Widow, at least on some level, for what happened to her mother. 

Perhaps, it was best that this was a goodbye kiss.

She framed Maria's face with her hands and got up on her toes to deepen the kiss. Maria's arms circled her waist and pulled her closer.

The moment her hands found the first button on Maria's shirt, steady hands stopped her and she backed off a little to look into Maria's eyes.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Maria's voice was soft and filled with patience.

Natasha frowned. Nobody ever asked that before. To be fair, the people she slept with were usually assignments and Maria was anything but a mission, but it still caught her by surprise.

She stopped and thought about it for a second.

“I am,” she nodded and looked up at Maria. “Are you?”

Maria kissed her again then and her hands went back to Natasha's hips while Natasha's fingers resumed the work on the shirt's buttons, unfolding them one by one, sliding the shirt off of her shoulders slowly. It was something she wasn't used to, taking her time. She usually tried to rush things and be done with it fast, but not with Maria, never with Maria.

She let the pace stay slow, every gesture deliberate, every movement calculated and each kiss aimed perfectly.

Maria's skin was soft and unmarked, with no scars and nothing she expected to see on a soldier, on an Agent. She was so young.

The weight of her body was gentle as she laid upon Natasha and her hands were warm and sure, a sharp contrast from the cold sheets beneath her. She held onto the sheets with a hand, while the other was buried in Maria's hair. Bringing Maria closer, Natasha bit on her neck to suppress the raising urge to whimper, moan, or even worse, say something she would regret a second later.

Everything she was feeling seemed to be both too much and not nearly enough. The heat, the cold sheet, Maria's weight, Maria's lips, Maria's hands, Maria. Everything was an anchor. It was as if Maria's steadiness was anchoring her as well.

Natasha had always felt like she was floating, drifting, torn through time and space, like she was meant to be in countless places at once. But not right then. In that moment, she felt heavy, like her bones were suddenly made of pure platinum. 

Present. 

Maria made her feel like she had finally found a way to stop wavering between two places: the one she was jumping from and the one she was landing into.

She wasn't a ghost anymore. She was real, she was there, she was present. All of her, was right there. For the first time in years, she felt whole.

  


Maria's fingers were tracing her back and Natasha was laying her head on Maria's chest, trying to hang on to the calmness and peacefulness she was feeling.

“I'll never see you again. Will I?” Maria asked almost too suddenly.

_Oh, darling. You will see too much of me._

She couldn't tell her that. She wanted to, but she just couldn't.

“You know, it actually takes just a few seconds to fall in love with someone.”

Maria chuckled. “Really?”

“Yeah. After that first few seconds, it just takes a really long time for you to catch up and realize it,” Natasha explained. “Something that has to do with how your brain starts producing dopamine, serotonin and noradrenaline the first time you meet someone. Every time you interact with them those levels get higher and higher and your reaction to them gets stronger, until you finally recognize what your brain has been trying to tell you all along. That is was them, that it's always been them.”

Maria was silent, she kept stroking Natasha's back gently, but under her palm on Maria's chest, the redhead could feel her heartbeat increase.

“Why are you telling me this?” Maria asked her carefully.

_Because you've been producing dopamine and oxytocin for a year and I've been producing dopamine and noradrenaline for four days and I wish I could tell you this is simple chemistry but I can't explain you why our timelines are all screwed up._

Natasha couldn't tell her why she was talking about neurophysiology. She didn't know herself why she _needed_ Maria to know that the reason they were feeling different things for each other was nothing but mere chemistry. That her brain just didn't have the proper time to start producing the right molecules, yet. She wished she could tell Maria “ _I will get there, too”,_ but she wasn't sure she ever would.

Love was for children.

She could control her feelings and make them go away really easily. The problem was that half of her didn't want those feelings to go away. She wanted them to stay, grow and fill her rotten heart to replace the loneliness, hate, and guilt with compassion, understanding, love.

“What if it takes me longer than other people to get there? What if it takes me-” she took a deep breath and faked casualness “-what if it takes me too many years?”

Maria smiled and chuckled lightly and looked down at her.

“If it takes you a decade Natasha, then it takes you a decade. You can't rush your noradrenaline, can you?”

Natasha laughed quietly and kissed her collarbone. “You can't rush it, you can't slow it down. Your neuropeptides do whatever they want, whenever they want to.”

Maria laughed and bowed her head to kiss her on the lips gently.

“It's eleven,” Natasha stated, reading the time on the alarm clock on the nightstand. “I should get going.”

“Can't you stay the night?”

“I wish I could. I have to be back to our safe house at midnight to catch my ride.”

She slowly got up and started getting dressed, while Maria sighed and searched her nightstand for something.

“Alright then. If you ever want to find me again, I know you'll be able to do so. But just in case,” she handed Natasha a piece of paper with a cellphone number on it. “Just in case there's a chance you want to take the easy road for once.”

Natasha smiled and kissed her, then carefully folded that piece of paper. Just in case, she told herself, she might ever need that.

“I'll see you soon,” she whispered to Maria on the doorstep. “Be safe. And come back.”

Maria faked a smile and bent down to kiss her one last time. “I'll be back before you know it.”

Natasha wouldn't try to find Maria again after her tour. She couldn't. She shouldn't, at least.

They had to move forward, Natasha knew that. Maria had to move forward. She had to let her go, set her free. She kept telling herself that as she jumped back to the Helicarrier. She had to let Maria move on.


	13. Places You Can't Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 1998 - 2007: Natalia's years in the Red Room; São Paulo, Hospital Fire, Drakov's daughter  
> |  
> ○ → 2006, December 3rd : Natalia jumps back to 2000 where she meets Maria Hill  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 8th-9th : The Black Widow turns herself in and is brought to the Helicarrier  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 16th -17th: Natasha jumps to 2001 and meets Maria on March 3rd and June 2nd  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 18th: Natasha jumps back to 2001, September 1st  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 19th: Natasha jumps back to 2001, September 15th

**[April 23rd, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Maria didn't understand why Fury kept sending Natasha on pointless missions, but she knew that it couldn't be just for the sake of the missions themselves. Either those missions were part of a bigger plan, or he was up to something else. Either way, she didn’t like being kept in the dark for anything even remotely concerning the Black Widow.

Romanoff had been authorized to engage in regular missions, so Clint and Phil were getting ready to leave with her for the first mission of Strike Team Delta.

In the meantime, Maria was stuck on old paperwork for Belgium and new paperwork for an upcoming mission in Uruguay. She was getting bored in general as the most challenging thing she had to do all week was avoiding running into Natasha again after they talked in the gym.

She couldn't explain what had happened, and she didn't know if she was ready to build a friendship from scratch with a woman she knew was going to break her heart someday.

She was sitting on the ground. Staring at that painting again.

Something about it bothered her to no end. Maybe the figure turned away, the mystery surrounding the scene, Natasha's eyes, or Natasha's lips. Something about the image didn't sit right with her.

She heard the door close and realized that someone had entered the storage room, but she was sure nobody would ever willingly go there except herself or Fury. Sharon sometimes came here if she was looking for Maria and couldn't find her. That was most likely than Fury, so she didn't get up or avert her eyes. She was so close to finally pinpointing what was wrong with that painting, when a voice distracted her.

“Sharon said I might find you here.”

Her eyes immediately found the woman leaning casually on a wall, like she had been there for a while. Natasha's eyes darted to the picture, then back to Maria. She pushed herself off the wall and walked to Maria, sitting down on the floor right next to her.

“I'm leaving tomorrow morning.”

“I’ve heard.” It was all Maria had to say about it, apparently.

Each day Fury found an excuse to let Natasha jump and everyday since, she has said goodbye to Maria before using those jumps to see the places and things she had always wanted to.

She’d stared at the Great Wall of China, she visited the Pyramids of Giza, she traversed the ruins of Machu Picchu and traveled the path to the statue of Christ the Redeemer. Each time, she would turn to the side, in search of Maria's eyes, longing to see the expressions on her face, wondering what she would think about all those marvelous things she could see.

But Maria wasn't there, and the world seemed flatter when she couldn't admire it mirrored through Maria's eyes.

Be that as it may, the one thing Natasha could see was herself mirrored in Maria's eyes: an assassin, the one Inhuman who had condemned them all to be rejected by society.

“Back in 1990, I don't know if you remember this, we talked about your mom. You told me she had the Sight.”

Maria turned to her and frowned a little. She remember vaguely that conversation, but her memory was foggy, she was just a kid and it was years before.

“Did she know-”

“That giving birth to me was going to kill her? Probably.” Maria answered coldly, averting her eyes.

“If Inhumans weren't discriminated against since the dawn of time, she might have been able to alert a doctor and she probably would have been fine. But she couldn't tell someone she knew what was going to happen, because then they would have known she was an Inhuman. And the reason why they're outcasts is because of, well,” she gestured vaguely to the picture. “Because of me.”

“Don't even joke about that.”

“That's what you think, isn't it?”

“That everything is your fault?” Maria chuckled. “No.”

“Because of the stories about me-”

“It wasn't your fault, Natasha.” Maria’s voice was firm and resolute. “If you hadn't gone back and if there weren't legends about you, they would have found another reason to hate people with powers. Everything slightly different is always seen as inherently bad at first. Humans are like that with everything.”

Natasha didn't know what to say to that. She had the impression Maria was mad at the Black Widow when they talked about her during her last trip. But… was it possible that it wasn't because of what happened to her mother?

“I thought you blamed me for that.”

“I could never blame you. There was a time when I thought my life would have been easier if you weren't so reckless with your powers, but it wasn't because of what happened to my mother, I guess that was unavoidable.”

“Then why?” Natasha frowned.

“Civilians would have probably hated Inhumans anyway,” Maria stated again, “but the military wouldn't have. They tested my DNA when I joined. I didn't know they were going to do that, but there wasn’t an easy way to just tell them, 'Hey nevermind, I’ve changed my mind, gonna go now, bye!'. So I sat there for the most excruciating half hour of my life. The test miraculously didn't show any trace of me having Inhumans genes, but I might have been arrested on the spot if it did. Rumors were that Black Widow would have been military, so anybody enlisting with Inhuman DNA was escorted out for questioning and were rarely seen again.”

“How did you manage to turn negative to the screening? Your genes aren't active, because you've never been in contact with a Terrigene, but they're still there. Shouldn't that have shown up in a screening?”

“Didn't Fury send you on a mission to alter some data for a medical visit at West Point two days ago?” Maria asked rhetorically.

Natasha scoffed and her eyebrows raised. “This is what the missions are? I'm fixing things that he doesn't have another way of fixing? Like, he's tying lose threads?”

“Yes, you're a spider, aren't you? You are weaving the threads of Fury's web. At least, I think that's what he's doing, but he often has an ulterior motive and I'm still working on figuring that one out.”

Natasha scoffed again and shook her head. “Well, anyway, I'm glad you don't blame me for everything wrong in the world.”

“I'm such a reasonable person, aren't I?”

“I heard you're leaving, too.”

Maria nodded. “Uruguay.”

“How long?”

“I don't know. Does it matter?”

Natasha got up. “Be safe. And come back.”

“I'll be back before you know it,” Maria promised in the same tone she already had once before.

“And this painting looks nothing like the original. Stop staring at it, or at least get a better replica. Or, you know, convince Fury to let me steal the original.”

Maria chuckled. “If you know where the original is, he won't need much convincing. He's been intrigued by this picture long before I was.”

Natasha smirked a little, shrugged, then walked away. “Bye, Hill.”

“Bye, Romanoff.”

**[August 17th, 2002 – New York City]**

Maria had been back in NYC for less than twenty-four hours, and she had already slept through the night and most of the day before getting kicked out of bed by Ian. She refrained from killing him only because he was one of the very few friends she had made during her tour. After knocking at her door in an unnecessarily loud manner for half an hour, he’d finally  managed to get her out of bed.

Apparently, they were all going out for drinks and there was nothing Maria could say to avoid it. Many of them would head home the next morning and Maria would be in New York just for the weekend, since both she and Ian had been re-assigned before even finishing their first tour.

They would have jumped out of Afghanistan and right into Iraq. They made the tactical team and were promoted a few grades during their ten months of active duty.

They came back the night before and as they approached the hotel, Maria had to swallow the hope to see Natasha waiting for her there. Maria had insisted they picked that one hotel without explaining why, but she knew Natasha couldn't be there.

Yet, disappointment still slid down her throat like iced water, tearing her away from the sensation of floating through a mist of hope.

She did everything mechanically. She got up, showered, dressed and went out with the rest of her team. Ian kept shoving Bred aside every time he even thought about making a move on Maria, because she was too distracted to do it herself.

“What has gotten into you?” Taylor asked her as they sat down into a bar. “No, don't tell me,” she corrected herself. “I know that look, must be a boy.”

“Must be,” Ian chuckled under his breath from Maria's other side.

Maria just rolled her eyes. “Happy you're going back tomorrow?” she asked Taylor, changing the topic.

“I am, finally going to see my little princess. Tonight, she told me she'd missed her mom very much. Can't wait to hug her tomorrow.”

They kept chatting and eating and drinking. Maria stuck to beer – still not legal, but at least it didn't fog her judgment.

Everything else stopped the moment a woman walked in and half the table turned their heads immediately, the other half followed quickly along with the better part of the other costumers, as Taylor and Kennedy just made fun of all the boys, staring at that girl with that red dress and those green eyes, those perfect lips. And she was walking to the bar and John got up immediately to try to buy her a drink.

He didn't even make it to the counter, she already muttered what she wanted to the bartender.

“I was hoping I could buy that for you,” he smiled charmingly.

“I'm sorry,” the woman told him in a voice that made Maria want to get up immediately from her seat and into her arms. Sweet, charming, and sexy, that voice could make any man go mad. “I'm actually waiting for someone.”

The bartender placed a double vodka and a glass of water in front of the redhead and John just frowned at the response and walked back to the table.

“Alright, Hill, you're headed to tactics, and I need a plan. You gotta help a guy out, dude.”

Maria was only half listening. She got up and walked to the counter, not caring about the eyes she felt on her back, following her movements.

What was she going to say? What if Natasha didn't even remember her, it had been ten months and they both had the impression they wouldn't see each other again. But there she was, sitting on a stool, her legs crossed gracefully and her hands reaching for both glasses. What could she ever say that would make sense?

Before she had time to utter a single word, the glass with water was slid in her direction as Natasha lifted the vodka.

“Have some water, kid. Still not buying you a drink while you're underage.”

Maria shot a look to the bartender who was, luckily, out of earshot. She walked closer, leaned an elbow on the counter and waited for Natasha to slowly, too slowly, turn to her.

“Hi,” Maria smiled like she was finally home after ten months spent breathing sand.

“Hello, again. Same hotel?”

“Same room.”

“Drink your water, it'll clear your head after those beers.”

Maria grasped the glass but made no move to actually lift it. “I don't know how you found me, but I'm really glad you did.”

“I can meet you there in a couple of hours if you want to keep hanging out with your friends,” Natasha offered.

“I haven't seen you in ten months. I'm ready to go when you are.”

Natasha drank the vodka in one quick gulp, then got up from her seat swiftly. Maria drank too, slower but steadily.

She walked by the table and muttered a quick “Met an old friend guys, gotta go. This has been fun. I'll see you tomorrow for breakfast.”

And for the goodbyes, she didn't add.

They all watched her leave, all with smiles and muttering how good of a friend Maria must be to give up on a night out to help someone. Ian stood there, smirking to himself and thinking of how much of a good _friend_ that girl must have been to Maria.

They started walking down the street, side by side, not looking at each other. Natasha could see how Maria's left hand was scratching at her jeans, or how she would lean nearer to Natasha progressively as they walked just to re-think what she was doing and stray slightly away again. Maria was concealing it well, but she was nervous and Natasha noticed. She always noticed everything about Maria, it had become a reflex Natasha couldn't and wouldn't avoid anymore.

So Natasha made the leap. She took the step and grasped Maria’s hand in her own, intertwining their fingers and then circling Maria's arm with her free hand.

Walking like that was a little harder, but the smile that immediately met Maria's lips was more than worth it.

After reaching Maria’s hotel room, they snapped together like magnets. It wasn't like their first time touching one another; it wasn't slow or languid, yet there was a different kind of urgency in Maria's fingers as she lifted Natasha’s dress. 

Whilst it had been months for Maria, and mere days for Natasha, Natasha still felt like she was just coming out of a long withdrawal, craving the contact. It should have made Natasha feel somewhat guilty, but she didn't. How could she, when holding Maria in her arms was something the Russian thought she would never feel again? It took her a while to recognise the feeling.

She pulled Maria's hair as the brunette kissed her neck, and as she bit down gently, Natasha gasped for air. Maria kissed her lips, then softly leaned her forehead on Natasha's and looked up into her eyes.

Natasha wished she could have the world frozen like that; she commands all of time and space, with every moment in the world at her mercy. Yet, she would have chosen to spend her whole life staring into Maria's eyes if she could have.

Natasha knew that unmistakeable feeling. Right then, only then, straddling Maria, looking into her eyes as her fingers moved between her legs, she could finally feel human again.

Here, Natasha Romanoff was not an Inhuman, not an assassin, not a spy, not even an agent. Just human. 

Safe, whole. 

Perhaps--if she’d dare to admit it-- maybe even _loved_.

  
  


She was sitting with her back leaning on the headboard, stroking Maria's hair, who was sitting between her legs, with her head nestled on Natasha's chest. The hand that wasn't into the brunette's hair was being held by both of Maria's hands, and she was playing with it.

It was comfortable, cozy, there was a certain sense of familiarity. Yet, Natasha was most definitely sure she had never been in a situation quite like that one before.

“This has been fun,” she murmured quietly.

“It has,” Maria confirmed. “Casual and fun.”

A slight crack in her voice made Natasha guess that, while it had been fun, maybe Maria wasn't okay with that, or at least she wasn't anymore.

“Are you unhappy with that?” Natasha asked her carefully, trying to use the right words.

Maria sighed a little. “What do you want me to say? Do you want me to pick a label? I don't think I can do that.”

“No, not at all. That's not what I meant.” Natasha told her immediately. There was no label that could ever fit them.

_Divergent timeline girlfriends? Alternative time-stream partners? Non-linear time-flux friends with benefits, perhaps?_

No, what they had couldn't be defined that easily.

“I'm just here for the weekend,” Maria murmured. “Just tonight and tomorrow and Sunday morning I'll leave again. Iraq, this time.”

“What, so soon? Aren't you at least going to take some time off? Aren't you going back to Chicago, not even for a day? Your family-”

“I have no family, Natasha. They need me there, in the tactics team. Nobody needs me in Chicago.” A pause. “Nobody needs me here.”

_I need you_ , Natasha wanted to say to her. _I need you here_ , but technically Natasha wasn't from there either.

“Maybe I should go,” she said instead. She couldn't burden Maria down. She wouldn't let herself do that.

“Can't you stay? Just for tonight?” Maria's voice was suddenly heavy, she sounded tired to her core, an heaviness that was anchored in her bones, in her limbs, in her heart.

Maria had been lonely for so long, always waiting, always looking everywhere, every time she thought she’d heard the name Natasha being called, even if she was in places her Natasha could have never been. And now, there she was. Her Natasha. Ready to leave her so quickly again.

“I'll stay until you have to leave, if you’d want me.” Natasha's promise surprised them both.

But Maria was quick to nod, thank her, and close her eyes as Natasha hugged her even closer to her chest.

  
  


After Maria fell asleep, she got up and got dressed.

Natasha wondered, yet again, if she was just making that one mistake for her to lose Maria for good. If what she was doing was the final straw that broke them up.

She promised herself so many times before not to go back, but that time, even if she did, the promise she was breaking couldn't have been easily fixed.

  
  


**[April 24th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Natasha was ready to leave. She was packed, suited up, and already on deck even though they weren't scheduled to leave for another hour.

“What are you doing already here?” Clint's voice made her turn slightly.

“Waiting.”

“We're not due for another-” his eyes caught sight of Maria's team loading another Quinjet and he realized they were leaving in less than twenty minutes. “Ah. You wanted to say goodbye.”

“No. Why would I? I'm just waiting for you and Phil to be ready.”

“You should tell her.”

“Why would I tell her I'm waiting for you?”

“I meant you should tell her how you feel about her,” Clint clarified.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

She kept her emotionless face and posture and didn't even glance towards him.

“A few years ago, me and Laura weren't married yet, we got into a huge fight just before I had to leave for a mission. I didn't say goodbye because I was too stubborn to apologize or just ignore it until I came back. Long story short, I almost didn't. Come back, I mean. Now I never leave without kissing her goodbye.”

Natasha turned to him slowly and frowned at him with a slightly disgusted face. “I am not going to kiss Commander Hill goodbye on the Helicarrier deck, Barton.”

“You know perfectly well what I meant!” Clint scoffed at her and rolled his eyes. “Whatever it is you're seeking, should it be friendship, love or absolution, at some point you will have to actually take the first step towards it.”

“Love and friendship are for kids. In the real world, nobody is your friend, not without an ulterior motive. And absolution has to be earned. I don't seek any of that, as it would only mean seeking heartbreak.”

“Just say goodbye, will you? Or don't, so if you get your ass kicked I can rub this in your face,” Clint rolled his eyes and walked towards the Quinjet they were supposed to take, bringing his stuff on board as well as Natasha's.

Maria walked by her, giving her a neutral “Agent Romanoff,” as a greeting.

“Commander Hill,” Natasha muttered as she saw her walked away, without finding something good enough to say.

It would be alright. Nothing bad would happen, Maria was heading to a conference where she would meet some World Leaders while her team snatched intel from under their noses. She wouldn't be at risk. And Natasha was just heading to her first mission as a S.H.I.E.L.D. field agent, nothing bad could happen, Fury probably picked something overly boring.

“So, are you ready? Budapest awaits us,” Clint smiled and leaned on the side of the Quinjet.

Natasha gave him an unimpressed look.

“Budapest is going to be boring. Let's at least travel in complete silence so I don't maim you before we get there.”

“Always a charmer,” Clint muttered and chuckled.

  
  


Budapest had been a disaster.


	14. A Place on Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 1998 - 2007: Natalia's years in the Red Room; São Paulo, Hospital Fire, Drakov's daughter  
> |  
> ○ → 2006, December 3rd : Natalia jumps back to 2000 where she meets Maria Hill  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 8th-9th : The Black Widow turns herself in and is brought to the Helicarrier  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 16th -19th: Natasha jumps to 2001 and meets Maria on March, June and September  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 23rd: Natasha goes to August 17th, 2002 and meets Maria after her first tour  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 24th: Natasha leaves the Helicarrier for a mission in Budapest

  


  
  


**[April 27th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

The room was too quiet. After the noises of the last few days, the silence was almost deafening to Natasha. It was warm, but the chair she was sitting in was uncomfortable. The metal against her elbows was cold, though a welcome change from the heat. She was used to the Russian weather and warm temperatures simply weren’t her friend.

“Please state your name.”

“Natasha Romanoff.”

She was getting quite bored of the interrogations, too. It was the third one Sitwell had made her sit through in the few hours she had been back.

“Can you please report the events-”

The door swung open, and Natasha's best and only hope was for Fury to walk right into the room and kick Sitwell out of her sight, because she couldn't stomach to answer that question _one more time_. 

Not even her greatest hope could have predicted Maria Hill strolling in, all confidence and assertiveness, to demand for Natasha’s immediate release, under the Assistant Director’s responsibility.

Natasha watched Sitwell get up and leave, Maria taking his place after closing the door behind him.

“Clint woke up,” Maria said as she regarded Natasha. 

“You came back,” Natasha replied. 

“You were charged with treason.”

“Did you finish your mission at least?”

“Of course I finished my mission.” Maria snapped, continuing after sighing, “Natasha, you were charged with treason, we thought you sold us out or betrayed us.”

Natasha only rolled her eyes and sighed.

“But Clint woke up. He said you two were ambushed by dozens of enemies and he was injured, but you fought all of them off and brought him safely to the extraction point. You saved his life.”

“I’ve already told this to Sitwell twice.”

“You risked your life to save his. You could have walked away, taken the handcuffs off and disappeared. Yet, you stayed and fought fiercely and bravely.”

“Barton trusts me, he's my partner and my-” Natasha couldn't believe she was actually thinking something like that, but those three days had changed their relationship deeply. “He's my friend.”

Maria held her gaze for a long time. Natasha didn't break the eye contact, choosing to wait patiently for Maria to say something.

“He will recover fully, thanks to you. He asked to see you. Come on, I'll take you to him,” she got up and they had to look away.

But Natasha could have sworn, for just a moment, she saw something in Maria's gaze, something familiar in the eyes of the younger Maria she knew.

Natasha nodded and followed her to the medical bay, into Clint's room.

He was barely awake, but even then he found the strength to open his eyes and look at her to ensure she was in fact Natasha. He closed his eyes again before speaking, like he could only manage to do one of those things at a time.

“I told you so.”

Natasha frowned, thinking she’d heard him wrong.

“You knew? About the ambush, about-”

Clint shook his head vehemently to let her know that it wasn't what he was referring to.

“Say goo-” he swallowed, then tried again. “Say goodbye properly next time, idiot.”

Despite the tension filling the room, Natasha couldn't help the light chuckle that escaped her lips. “Yes, Clinton, your priorities are noted, thank you.” Her tone was sarcastic and a little bitter, but she couldn't be more glad that he was awake and talking after taking three bullets meant for her. “I'd like to point out that if you just shoved me aside instead of putting your stupid self in front of me, neither of us would have had to say goodbye.”

“Shush. I was right.”

Natasha rolled her eyes at the small smirk playing at his lips. “Things were easier when you were unconscious, I think I'll ask Fury if I can knock you out after every mission so I don't have to talk to you.”

“Shush, Tasha. You're talking to me now and you don't have to, so.”

“Shut up and rest. Hill says she will fire you if you don't.”

“Never said that,” Maria spoke up from the threshold of the room, her shoulder leaning on the wall beside the door.

“Traitor,” Natasha murmured, then looked back at Clint who was soundly snoring. She rolled her eyes again but was secretly glad he was getting some rest.

She got up and followed Maria out of the room, closing the door gently. Instead of leaving, Maria brought her into another room of the medical bay. Natasha was unsure if she should follow her but eventually did. Maria waited for her, then shut the door.

“You're carrying your weight on the left foot. Sprained ankle? And you're breathing sharply. I'm assuming your rib isn't fractured because the pain would be insufferable. I'd still like someone to give you a medical check.”

“Fitz-Simmons are gone and I don't trust the other doctors.”

“Not even one of them? What if I send Bobbi? Sharon? May, even.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Well, if all it takes is an Agent with adequate training, you're already here, aren't you?” It was meant to be a sassy comeback, but Hill just snorted and shrugged, pointing the bed to her.

“Suit yourself. Take off your boot and your jacket please.”

Natasha scoffed at her. She couldn't be serious. But then she saw the way Hill glanced to the right for a millisecond and then back at her. That woman didn't have a lot of tellings, she barely ever had any, but if that wasn't one, then Natasha was a professional ballerina. She decided to call the bluff. It’ll work in her favor either way. Maria already knew every scar she had, kissed every inch of her body and touched every mark too gently. If there was a person whom she shouldn't feel self-conscious stripping in front of, it was Hill.

“Fine.” She went to sit on the bed and took off her boot.

Maria looked a little taken aback, but she recovered quickly enough to follow Natasha’s lead. After a moment of hesitation, she shifted the only chair in the room in front of the bed, sat down, and took Natasha's foot in her hands, gently probing her ankle. She reached for the tray nearby and grabbed an instant-ice pack before handling it to Natasha without a word.

“Well?”

“I think you know what to do with that,” Maria told her curtly. “It's just a sprain. May I see your rib now?”

“You may,” Natasha quipped. She put the ice pack on her ankle just as Maria shifted to sit on the bed next to her and looked down at her torso, stopping for a second with her hands mid-air. 

Natasha picked up on her hesitation and addressed the issue at it’s root, “You won't hurt me, I've had worse.”

Maria breathed in deeply, huffing out empty air instead of the words that were going through her mind: “ _But it's been so long, too long. What if I touch you and you're different and I discover my mind has been deceiving me with false memories? Or worse, what if I touch you and you're exactly the same, what if you're her, what if you're the woman I know by heart? What if you're the woman I'm still in love with, what then?”_

The first thing Natasha noticed was that Maria’s fingers were warm. They were as gentle as always, too gentle, too soft, too much. It was too similar to the touch that her nineteen-year-old Maria showed her for the first time.

She inhaled sharply when Maria examined the bruised spot.

“It's not cracked, just a little-” Maria looked up, finding that Natasha's green eyes were already on her.

Hours, days later, Maria would find herself swearing to herself in the dark of her own room that she wasn't the first one to lean in. That she wasn't the one who started it. But a voice in her head would point out in reply that she hadn't been the one who ended it, either.

They met halfway. Though they would both convince themselves they didn't. Maria would say Natasha kissed her, and Natasha would take full responsibility for the kiss, none from the Commander. But they would both be lying. Maria still wanted her, Maria still yearned for that kiss the same way Natasha did. But it was easier to pretend she didn't. It was easier, it was fairer to her if Natasha just put all the blame on herself.

Because Natasha was the one to drop the ice pack to frame Maria's face with her hands, she was the one who pulled Maria closer, she was the one who parted her lips first. She wouldn't let herself think about how it was Maria who put her hands on Natasha's hips to cling to her, how it was Maria who deepened the kiss, because thinking about that might have led her to dwell on the false hope that what once had been between them might become true, become tangible again.

And it just wasn't possible for them.

Natasha needed something different. Something to trace and deepen the line to say: _this_ is what kissing my lover feels like, and _this_ is what kissing my Commander feels like.They're not the same; because she doesn't feel the same towards me, because we can _never_ get back what we had.

The difference came soon enough and it was as clear as water. Nails dug on her hips and teeth sank in her lips and Natasha felt like she swallowed a mouthful of fire, something deep inside herself was ignited, setting her ablaze. She clutched to Maria's hair and pulled her closer sharply, forcing her to bend a little and in the process she lost her height advantage. It wasn't sweet and gentle and all the things she remembered. It was passion and sparks and fireworks; her nails scraping marks on Maria's neck, her fingers stretching Maria’s field suit, pulling her closer, closer, closer.

Until Maria kissed her right back with a passion that overwhelmed her, with a desire that made her feel wanted and cherished and-

She sharply ended the kiss with a gasp.

-and loved.

_Love is for children, Natalia._

Maria still couldn't love her. It had been too long. She’d broke a promise when she left that night and she knew that no matter how much she wanted to go back, she would never be allowed to, especially after she had been charged with treason. She’d broken her promise to Maria. She had no right to want Maria to love her still. It was unfair.

“I'm-”

“Don't you dare say you're sorry.” Maria's voice was almost harsh. Why, Natasha couldn't tell. Maybe she regretted showing vulnerability or maybe she regretted not being vulnerable enough to ask Natasha to just kiss her again. Maybe she wished Natasha had never kissed her in the first place, or maybe she wished she didn't long for her to do so.

“I'm not sorry I kissed you,” Natasha couldn't lie to her. She still felt like Maria was the only person she could be herself around. “I'm sorry I hurt you.”

Maria looked away and got up, turning her back to her. “You don't know what you're apologizing for, then.” She took the ice from the floor and handed it back to her. “Ask one of the doctors for painkillers for your ribs.”

“I don't need painkillers. The pain won't kill me.”

Maria laughed bitterly and briefly looked at her again. “The right amount of the right kind of pain could kill anybody. You just haven't discovered what that kind it is for you, yet.”

Natasha watched her leave, thinking she might just have an idea or two.  
  
  


Fury found her fast asleep on the chair next to Clint's bed in the medical bay and wasn't surprised in the least. He was about to turn and leave when he realized Natasha wasn't asleep at all.

“Did you want to ask me something, or do you usually watch your agents while they're unconscious?”

“I wanted to apologize on behalf of Sitwell for his behavior. He went overboard to convince me you were somehow in on the ambush, he even brought Fitz-Simmons in on this. But Hill wouldn't listen to anything that was standing in her way.”

“Fitz-Simmons?”

“He made us check the records of your jumps.”

Natasha's exterior didn't change in the slightest, her face remained emotionless. But she felt her stomach metaphorically drop to her feet.

“How?”

“Fitz timed them, then checked the security cameras on the areas we sent you to see if the time matched.”

Natasha knew it didn't. It couldn't. She stayed away hours more than she was supposed to, if he timed them he would calculate her travels down to the second. He couldn't miss something that important, could he?

She was painfully aware of what she had to do.

As soon as Fury would tell her she was under arrest, she would take the scalpel on the second drawer from the bottom in the closet behind her back. If she was quick she could slip past Fury, stab Clint's doctor and made it halfway through the second corridor before agents started to arrive to tackle her down. With her ribs bruised and her ankle sprained, she could probably take down thirty, forty at best. But if nobody came to help her, it would be impossible to make it to the bridge, and she would have no chance to jump out of the Helicarrier while ripping the handcuffs off.

Clint was lying in a hospital bed, Fitz-Simmons was still on the ground, she hadn't see May in days, and Maria wasn't exactly her biggest fan that day.

Basically, she was doomed. But she wouldn't go down without a fight.

“They checked out.”

She kept her expression perfectly still. “I had no doubt,” she bluffed.

“They could only check the last couple of jumps, but it was enough,” Fury explained.

Natasha's head was reeling. How? They should have all been at least eight seconds off. Even then, measuring her travels in the present, they would be a few seconds off, but it would be impossible not to notice the multiple hours gaps in the past. How did they miss it?

She knew they couldn't have. That could only mean that there wasn't any gap to find. But that wasn't possible either.

“Why don't you,” Fury told her carefully, “take a couple of days off? After what happened with Agent Barton-”

“I don't need two days off, Director.” Natasha raised her wrists to him. “I only need a minute.”

“A minute is more than two days without those on,” he pointed out.

“Sir, I made a promise to someone I- I care a great deal about. I have to make good on my word.”

“Why now?”

_Because if you check again and realize you were wrong, you'll lock me up and never let me out again. Because I never thought you were sending me in places you have cameras in just so you could check on me. Because I was reckless, relaxed my guard, and it could cost me the one person I-_

“Because of what happened to Agent Barton,” she lied. “When you have all of time and space at your mercy, you never think 'today is my last chance to be there', because there'll always be another chance. So I never thought to make good on a promise. But what if,” she looked up at him and tried to convey sincerity, “What if today was my last chance? What if it's my tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that? Until I'm out of these,” she gestured at the handcuffs, “I can't go. And I can't die without doing this first.”

Fury sighed and stared at her for a long moment. But, eventually, he nodded.

**[August 18th, 2002 – New York City]**

Luckily, she was exceptionally good at picking looks. She reached Maria's room unnoticed and slipped inside as soon as she managed to open the door. Silently, in the dark, she found her way to the bed and shed her clothes quickly before sliding underneath the covers.

She knew that even if Maria was trying to keep her breathing steady and deep she wasn't asleep anymore. It didn't matter. She rested her forehead between Maria's shoulder blades and laid a hand on her arm gently.

It was a different kind of tiredness, the one she was feeling, it made her feel vulnerable in a way she didn't like.

“I didn't think you'd come back.” Maria's voice was low and sleepy. She hadn't been awake very long.

“I promised I'd stay the night.”

It only took a few days and for one of her few real friends in the world to nearly die for Natasha to keep that promise. She wanted to call it a win anyway.

Maria turned to lay on her back, and Natasha rested her head on Maria's shoulder, she let herself be hugged, and relaxed in Maria's comforting embrace.

“Yet, out you went as soon as I drifted off.”

“I had to let someone know I wasn't going to work tomorrow.”

Maria hummed and, even if maybe she didn't believe the lie, she didn't say anything.

“Can we go back to sleep? You promised to take me sightseeing a long time ago.”

“I shall be righting that tomorrow then,” Maria's light tone was music to Natasha's ears.

She snuggled closer to Maria, her nose grazing the smooth skin of Maria's neck lightly as she breathed in her familiar scent.

Natasha closed her eyes. With her recent near-death experience, the discussion that they had last time they were together – a few hours ago for Maria, a few days for Natasha – seemed so silly and pointless. She was bone-tired, half-asleep, and yet her mind had never been clearer. Maria was her miracle, her heaven-sent safe place.

“I don't need you to pick a formal label, I know what you are to me.”

Maria's hold on her tightened imperceptibly, then she asked quietly, an innocence in her voice absent in Commander Hill, “Really? What am I?”

“My secret harbor, my very own shore. You're my safe place.”

It was quiet for a moment. She felt Maria's soft lips against her forehead.

“There's a word for that.”

“Is there?”

“Home.”

Natasha felt like she couldn't breathe. Maria was right. Natasha felt like she had finally found her home, the one person she could always return to, the one thing she didn't want to run from.

“You're mine, too.”

Natasha felt like she could breathe again.

  


They went to Liberty Island and took a bunch of pictures, Natasha nicked Maria's phone to photograph basically everything worthy of her interest – which, admittedly, were a number of very random things. Maria would look at the pictures on her way to Iraq a couple of days later, only to find a bunch of pictures of herself, some landscapes, a lot of monuments, and one video of herself that Natasha took when Maria wasn't paying attention.They were having lunch, and Maria was laughing a lot. Even if her face was never in the frame, Natasha's laugh was also audible. Maria listened to it repeatedly.

They walked through New York's streets hand in hand; it was freedom at its finest for the both of them. They could be themselves in public without having to think too much about it or without hiding a part of themselves. They were just tourists in a city far, far away from where they came from.

They were happy, sated, _blissful,_ as they laid on Maria’s bed late one night..

“Do you think, one day, we would... have something formal to call one another? Or, you know, be in the same city long enough to decide if we want to define anything between us?”

Natasha stroked brunette hair with her right hand. Maria was lying against Natasha, who was sitting up against the headboard of the bed in their hotel room. Natasha's left hand was resting on her chest, an inch below her clavicle, so she could feel her heartbeat.

“We don't want that. To stop. Settle down. Leave our jobs,” Natasha reasoned, “it doesn't fit our profiles. And people like me, well, we only have one way out.”

“People like you?” Maria chuckled. “I can't imagine anyone like you. You escaped a Russian agency who forced you into their ranks, which probably enlisted you at a very young age, trained you, forced some martial arts, and languages on to you... Yet, you managed to escape and the US government is now protecting you, offered you a job, and a new identity to go with it, just so you could be safe.”

Maria nuzzled Natasha, forcing the redhead to meet her eyes, “But you don't feel safe, do you? You're always looking behind your shoulder, it's almost second nature. Am I close?”

“Scarily so. You're good,” Natasha’s eyes were as soft as her words. 

“But it wasn't an agency, was it? You thought it was, but it wasn't official, not even in Russia the government would recruit teens.” Maria replied.

Natasha couldn't tell her she was four. She couldn't tell her about the Red Room. But even so, Maria came so close to the truth it was concerning.

“How did you-”

“The way you carry yourself; you make everything look effortless, you’ve walked around all day on a sprained ankle – don't even try to deny it – meaning that you're used to pain. When you hear a sudden noise, your right hand has the smallest twitch, like you're about to go for a gun that’s not there. I do the same thing. All of this tells me you're a field agent, and that requires training. It means you've been in the field for a while, because you're about my age but you were already an agent when we've met. So, you weren't trained here, but in Russia. The fact that you're here and not there means you either resigned and applied for a job here – I don't see that going so smoothly – or they had a very good reason to believe you would be loyal. Hence, you defected and escaped. A teenager who has probably been brainwashed doesn't run from her own country unless she's working for some very evil men. Am I wrong?”

Well, there had to be a reason why Maria was so young and already one of the finest Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Natasha supposed.

“Drop tactics and go into profiling, babe. The FBI could use you.”

Maria chuckled and shrugged. “You told me all this. I wouldn't have known if you didn't want me to. You wanted me to listen, to get this. Didn't you?”

“I trust you with this. With my life,”

Maria turned her head to look at her. Her smile made Natasha's heart stop. So beautiful and endearing and yet so, so sad. “So, there's no way out for us, is there?”

“Nobody really gets out of life alive, Maria.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Let's say you could live forever, then. Live so long that you could leave your job, outlive your contract and whatever it says. What kinda life would you want?”

Technically, Natasha could. She stopped aging, at the age of roughly twenty-one. Her metabolism worked differently and time went by in a strange way not only around her but within herself. The problem was she wouldn't. 

She might outlive Fury, but the director after him? Or the one after that? S.H.I.E.L.D. could go on for a long time and she wouldn't be free of that contract anytime soon. But eventually, when S.H.I.E.L.D. got wiped out or when she managed to escape? After Maria's life span, when she had nothing left to lose?

“I'd see everything there is to see. Every last corner of the world. And after I'd have seen everything, I'd start right back again. I have a the heart of a wanderer. Unless...there is a scenario that you'd live forever too. Then we could settle down eventually, buy a house, get a cat.”

“What if I'm a dog person?” Maria teased.

“There would be space for both, Maria, it's going to be a big house.”

“With a backyard?”

“Yes. There'll also be a swing.”

“And a patio, for eating outside?”

“Yes, and it's going to be somewhere warm so we can eat there all year long.”

“What if,” Maria considered, “There was a beach at the back instead of the garden?”

“That sounds like heaven,” Natasha kissed Maria’s hair. “But maybe... there's a place like that, a place on Earth where we could be happy.”

Maria smiled again, that secret smile reserved for Natasha that made her eyes shine brightly. “We don't need that perfect place, Natasha. We can be happy right here, for now.”

Maria bent her head back and kissed her on the lips. Natasha smiled.

Yes. Yes, they could be happy there indeed.  
  
  


The airport was too loud, Maria too quiet, and Natasha too unsettled. She never did like goodbyes. They were never good with that part, neither of them.

“Do you still have my number?”

“I do. I don't know when I'll be back here, but I'll call when I am,” Natasha told her. “How long is your tour going to be?”

“Eight months. Maybe longer if they can't find a replacement for me.”

“Alright then. Eight months. That's not too long.” Natasha got up on her tiptoes and kissed her on the lips. “Be safe. And come back. I’ll see you then.”

Maria smirked. “I'll be back before you know it.”

Natasha nodded, but couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“Ian's here, I gotta go.”

“Goodbye, Maria.”

“Bye, Nat.”

Ian. Commander Ian McGriffith? Clint told her something about that man. Wasn't he the one who lost a leg and an arm when a building crumbled upon him and his team in-

“Fuck.”

-in Iraq. Where he was headed. With Maria.

_  
_


	15. It Hurts to Become

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 1998 - 2007: Natalia's years in the Red Room; São Paulo, Hospital Fire, Drakov's daughter  
> |  
> ○ → 2006, December 3rd : Natalia jumps back to 2000 where she meets Maria Hill  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 8th-9th : The Black Widow turns herself in and is brought to the Helicarrier  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 16th -19th: Natasha jumps to 2001 and meets Maria on March, June and September  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 23rd: Natasha goes to August 17th, 2002 and meets Maria after her first tour  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 27th: Clint was injured in Budapest. Natasha kisses present-day Maria.

**[April 28th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Maria was summoned inside Fury's office urgently and without explanation. She got there as fast as she could, fearing a turn for the worse in Clint's condition, or a security footage leak depicting her and Natasha's kiss the day before.

When she walked inside and closed the door, Fury turned a laptop towards her and she feared that her latter guess might have been right.

“One of our land facilities got called in by the FBI on a case of kidnapping two hours ago. The kidnappers said they would only talk to a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.”

“Do you need me to bargain with them?”

“Our agents got there and talked to them already. They said they would only consider surrender if put in contact with someone specific. They have an elementary school locked down, two of their agents at every exit, armed with assault rifles. They said if someone gets close, they'll start shooting the kids.”

“Do you want me to get in? Rescue the kids?”

Fury shook his head. “We’ve agreed to let their boss talk to this person in exchange for the civilians’ freedom,” Fury pressed a button on the laptop in front of Maria and a video feed started playing on the screen. “The line is secure, they won’t be able to trace it back to S.H.I.E.L.D. Once you start talking to him, you have to make clear we won't bargain your life for the kids. We don't make deals with terrorists, the United States Government has a very strict policy about that.”

“Me? He wants to talk to _me_?”

“Once you're done, we'll know what he wants and the cards he hold, and we'll decide what to do. You know how to do this, so good luck.”

Maria frowned but sat down in front of the laptop, still confused as hell, but knowing it wasn't wise to keep a terrorist with hostages waiting. She pressed the button and she could instantly tell when the man started seeing her face on his screen. He was wearing a ski mask, but his accent was unmistakable.

“I'm Commander Hill.”

“I know who you are,” the thick Russian accent ran down Maria's spine like a shiver. “I asked for you. You're the one who has single handedly taken down a handful of our facilities.”

“You're with the Red Room.”

“You don't sound surprised.”

She could feel her hands start sweating a little; she was usually well put together, but even Maria Hill was unsettled with children being involved in something like this. And because of her, nonetheless. She tried to stay calm, to keep her voice even.

“Let the children go, you're talking to me as you asked,”

He looked at her for a moment longer, then gestured with his head to one of his men, who proceeded to disappear from the video. Fury, behind the desk and out of the frame, immediately started making a call.

“I have another request. You come here, to us, willingly.”

She would do it, to save a school full of kids. She would. But if he held his part of the deal, she wouldn't have to. It made no sense to her.

“Let me guess: unarmed and without back up?”

She tried to stall him while Fury got the confirmation that the kids were being evacuated.

“You can come armed, it is not a problem. There are too many of us. But yes, you have to come alone. After all, you brought down so many of our facilities alone, why change now?” His tone was bitter but smug at the same time.

“Because now you're expecting me,”

Fury nodded to her, he gestured for Maria to keep him on the line, to keep talking to him. They were letting the kids go but it would take a while.

“You're releasing the kids,” Maria pointed out. “This means you have something else, you wouldn't give them up so easily otherwise.”

“Yes, the kids were just to get the FBI attention. They got S.H.I.E.L.D. here, and S.H.I.E.L.D. got you on the line.”

Fury mouthed to her, “They're almost done, two classes left, keep talking,” and so Maria did.

“And how do you plan to get _me_ there?”

“I have gathered every information I could find about you. Army, then S.H.I.E.L.D., you're built to be a soldier, to think like a soldier. Everybody cares about children, but it would not work on a soldier. We are taught that lives are expendable, any life is.”

Maria had no idea what kind of soldier that man was, but what he described was absolutely not what she was taught, not in the army, and definitely not by S.H.I.E.L.D.

“We are taught that the purpose we have, the Country we serve, they have priority. But even soldiers must care about someone. I have someone you love, Commander Hill, right here with me. If you want him back, you'll have to come and save him. On my conditions.”

Maria looked at Fury again.

“They counted the kids, they're all safe and protected,” he told her.

“I'm curious. Who is the person you think will prevent me from sending a SWAT team blasting through that doors?” Maria asked, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible.

The man smirked, got up, then stepped aside.

Maria looked at the screen, observing the man tied to the chair in the middle of the room. He was older than the last time she saw him, wearing a nicer suit than she had ever seen him wear, and he looked freshly shaved and fully sober. But it was him. She would have recognized those eyes anywhere.

“If you wish to see your father alive and well again, Commander Hill, come here alone in two hours. Or see us kill him on this video feed.”

“The U.S. Government doesn't treat with terrorists,” she said in a monotonous voice.

“I know that. That's why I'm bargaining with you and not with them.”

“But even if we did,” Maria continued, ignoring him, “We wouldn't in this case.”

There was a pause. She saw the Red Room agent hesitate, then look at his co-workers, then at the camera again.

“I don't think you realize what will happen to him if you don't do what I tell you.”

“Oh, I do. But, as I said, we don't bargain with terrorists. I do have a message for him, though, if you'd so do me the kindness,” she said in a neutral tone, leaning forward a little and making sure her eyes were looking right into the camera. She wasn't sure if her father could hear her, but there was a good chance he would be able to from his position.

The Red Room agent's head snapped to the left as a gunshot echoed in the distance, the men behind him started moving around the camera while raising their rifles. Maria knew she’d just ran out of time.

“My message is this: _Enjoy hell, I'll see you there._ ”

Without a moment of hesitation, she closed the laptop.

“Agent Hill, those are Red Room agents, we can't let them escape.” Fury articulated, controlled with curiosity bleeding through.

“I know, director. I already have a plan, but I'll need help to pull it off. From a specific person. But I'm positive this will work.”

  
  


Natasha was trying to figure out how Fitz-Simmons could be convinced that the duration of her trips were consistent with the seconds that went by in the present. She hadn't been able to think about anything else since the moment she came back from the past. Or rather, she forced herself not to think about the other two recurring paths her brain was keen on treading: the kiss with the Commander and the fact that her younger Maria was back on the field, where something bad was going to happen to her-- Natasha wasn't going to be able to be there for her.

So she focused on trying to figure out what went wrong.

Was it possible that she always misjudged the relation between the time passed in the present and the relative time she spent in the past? But it wouldn't make sense, then, that it checked out. Because all the counts would be wrong. It was overly confusing, even for her.

A knock on the door pulled her out of her line of thinking, May's face popped in from the barely opened door.

“Fury needs to see you in his office.”

“When?”

“Three minutes ago.”

“Is that a figure of speech or...?” Natasha raised her wrists and smirked a little.

May just rolled her eyes. “Hilarious. I almost prefer when you barely talked. Get up, it's an emergency.”

Natasha turned serious again and nodded, following May out of her room and down the corridor, towards Fury's office.

When they arrived, he was talking to Hill, who was already gearing up.

“Capture if possible, kill only if necessary.”

“Yes, sir. I know the way we do things,” Hill nodded.

“This is still a hostage situation, Hill, the primary mission is still rescue.”

Maria’s eyes snapped up from the straps of the bulletproof vest she was adjusting around her waist. She looked at him incredulously.

“Sir, the Red Room agents should be our priority. The fact that they're still operative means there are clearly facilities we didn't know about. Red Room's agents are not only high profile criminals, but also a threat to one of our own agents, sir.”

She could see the area around his eye tense slightly. “Hill, the hostage is still a citizen of the United States. Despite your personal feelings towards him, the Red Room could still kill him. Whatever he did-”

“Sir, with all due respect, our primary mission should be the threat to our own, they have one single hostage. And they're a treat to national- maybe even global- security.”

May knocked on the opened door, making their presence known to Fury and Hill, who were too caught on their conversation to pay attention.

“Come in. Agent Romanoff, gear up.” Maria ordered.

Natasha nodded and complied. “What is the mission?”

“Twelve Red Room agents barricaded into a school with two classes, three teachers, the principal and an unrelated man as hostages. They asked the police to contact the FBI and offered to release the teachers. Then they offered the FBI to release the principal if they contacted S.H.I.E.L.D., when the FBI agents denied our existence, they shot one of the teachers in the leg. One of our teams got there, they released the teachers as promised. The one who was shot is out of danger, he's in a hospital and he'll be okay,” Fury debriefed.

“They asked S.H.I.E.L.D. to put a specific agent on their video comm and they would free the children,” Maria clarified, checking her gun one last time.

“Did you second that?” Romanoff asked, eyes still on her gear as she was getting ready.

“Yes.”

“Did they release the kids?”

“They did.”

“So only one hostage.”

“Expendable,” Maria told her coldly.

Natasha frowned. “Nobody is expendable. You taught me that.”

“This one is,” Maria answered, her voice still cold. “You and I will go back to the moment right after all the kids were evacuated but the guy in charge was still talking to me on his laptop. We have about three minutes of time, then there was a shot. We're going to have silencers on our guns, so that would be them. Probably shooting at us. Let's hope they missed. Are you ready?”

Natasha frowned. She had about a million questions. Nothing about the operation sat right with her, it was all very confusing.

“I know that face, but there's no time for questions,” Maria pointed out.

Natasha scoffed, “I can go back in time, we could go for tea and still make it there ten minutes ago, Maria,” she stated. “Who did they want to talk to? Who's the hostage and why is he expendable? Why did they take all those hostages just to free them?”

“They have two men at every entrance, eight in total since there are four entrances. And three men are in the room with the hostage,” Maria bluntly ignored Natasha’s questions. “We're going to use the three minutes to go back to each entrance, to the exact second all the kids are free, and we'll capture the agents and bring them back here, directly inside the prisons. Two by two, all eight of them, until the shots I heard on the video are fired. If they're not our last strike, but let's say second or third, it won't matter, because we'll go back in time again for the others while they were there a few minutes before. The man in charge will be talking to me, they didn't communicate and he didn't get suspicious. After we capture those eight, we'll move to the last three, which, hopefully, having heard the shots, will leave the hostage and come for us.”

Natasha stared into her eyes for a long moment, she registered the details of the plan, but her mind kept wondering why was she acting like there wasn't a man's life at stake. The firm look in the brunette's eyes told her she wasn't going to get an answer from her. So she turned to Fury.

“Sir, we had a deal. One of my condition for joining in was-”

“This isn't about you, Romanoff,” Maria interjected.

“-was that everything within my clearance level would be completely revealed to me, and if this is a mission I'm partaking in-”

“This isn't about good guys or bad guys, those are Red Room's agents! There's no question about who's on the right side of things, Natasha,” Maria tried again.

“-then I want to know the details. I'm just asking to know what their real target is. They took so many hostages just to bargain their way up a ladder with no end?” Natasha shook her head. “It doesn't make sense. They had to be certain we would go. Why? What are they after?”

Fury looked at her, then at Maria.

“Sir, we had a deal,” Natasha pointed out again.

Maria sighed, looking back at Fury, knowing there was no way out.

“It's me,” she eventually relented, “They worked their way up to talk to me, the hostage is my father. They want to kill the agent who took down their facilities, and this is the quickest way to get me there.”

Natasha was very quiet and still for an exceptionally long moment. Then, she loaded her gun and stretched out her wrists.

“I'm ready now.”

Her voice was cold and decisive. Maria knew, in a fraction of second, that she wasn't standing before Natasha anymore. That woman right there, she was the Black Widow herself, ready to take down anyone threatening someone who was apparently valuable to her.

Fury took off her handcuffs without a single word.

“So, how does this work? Do I have to, I don't know, take your hand or,” Maria frowned while trying to work out logistics of time-travel. “Jump on your back?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, then sighed. “Yes Maria, I used to carry two Red Room agents, two-hundred pounds each, on my back, every jump I made.”

Maria narrowed her eyes at her. “Well, how am I supposed to know-”

Before she could finish that sentence, Natasha put a hand on her shoulder and suddenly they were traveling through time and space together.

  
  


The first two were easy, they were situated on the far entrance and went down before either one of them could even make a sound. Natasha put her hands on each of them, then looked up at Maria. The brunette put a hand on her shoulder, just like Natasha did a few moments before, and they were back inside the Helicarrier.

“Ready for round two?” Maria asked, stretching her hand towards Natasha.

She took it with a smirk. “I was born ready,”

The second time around went a little rougher. The men noticed them, putting up a decent fight even when the two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents jumped close enough to use the element of surprise to disarm them. Natasha's guy kept trying to open the comm with their teammates, but Natasha punched that idea out of him. Maria knocked the other one out, smashing the heel of her gun against his head. Then did the same with the other while Natasha was still dancing around with him.

“Hey, I was getting there,” she protested. “You take all the fun out of this.”

“There's no time for games, Natasha.”

“We've got all the time in the world, remember?”

Maria sighed and rolled her eyes. “Come on.”

The third time was the troubling one. The exit was on an open space, so they had to jump behind a corner a few feet away.

They observed the man for a few moments, then retracting behind the wall.

“Okay, here's how we're going to do it,” Maria suggested, “I'll catch their attention, I'll call out and then run to the other side of the corridor. I'll take cover behind the opposite corner and you'll dematerialize behind them and jump with them directly inside one of our cells. Can you do that?”

“In my sleep.”

“Natasha, please don't play games. I'm taking a big risk, okay? Don't make me regret this.”

“I'll do what you ordered, Commander,” she assured.

“No side trips,” Maria recommended her. She gently took Natasha's hand in her own. “Promise me, Natasha.”

Natasha clenched her jaw, but nodded. “No side trips.”

Maria turned, called out to the men on the other end of the open space while running to the other end of the corridor, then took cover there. Natasha jumped right behind them, but hesitated just for a moment. 

She _could_ go check up on her younger Maria, just for a few minutes. See that she came back from Iraq in one piece. Her Commander would never know, it would only take a second.

But she promised Maria she wouldn't.

She forced herself to stay focused on the present. She put her hands on the agents' shoulder, but it was a fraction of second too late. Her hesitation had made all the difference. Maria peeked around the corner,convinced Natasha already took them away, but she was met with a bullet coming right towards her.

Natasha saw the familiar shade of blood as she jumped into the Helicarrier prison. It was the most terrifying second of her life. She was standing there, in the cell, the vision of blood spilling from Maria's throat as she was hit was enough to make her breathless. What if she died and Natasha couldn't go back and save her? What if her moment of hesitation because she wanted to go and protect her in the past had cost Maria her life in the present? What if Maria never knew what she meant to her?

With a calming breath, she went back to the exact second she left, racing down the hallway to get to Maria, expecting her to be bleeding out on the floor, screaming in pain, or even worse, already dead.

But Maria was standing up, reloading her gun almost casually.

“Ready for the last two?” Maria asked again.

“Are you injured? I saw you get shot.”

Maria frowned and slightly shook her head. “I wasn't. He fired, and that explains the noise on the video, but I wasn't hit. He missed.”

“I saw red, I saw the blood pouring out of your throat.”

“Natasha, my throat is intact as you can see for yourself. I don't know what you think you saw, but it wasn't my blood.” Maria sighed once more, “Look, there's no time for this, we gotta go back in time for the last two men.”

Natasha's frown deepened, but she eventually nodded. She was so focused on inspecting Maria that she didn't notice the red drops on the floor, or the strange color of the hair on the back of Maria's neck that she couldn't clean as easily as her skin.

They jumped back to the same moment for the fourth time, in the fourth different place. They took down the men at the last entrance and got back on the Helicarrier before they could even hear the shot that was being fired against them on another hallway at almost the same moment.

“Alright, all the men at the entrances are secured in our cells. Now we go back for the guys in charge of the hostage. Ready?”

Natasha nodded, but her eyes were distant, mentally replaying the moment she saw the red spray from Maria. Was she that scared of losing Maria that her mind was imagining the ways it could happen? She shook the thought out of her head and held her hand up for Maria to take.

“Let's do this.”

  
  


They moved quietly and quickly towards the room shown in the video feed. The FBI had provided them with the maps they needed to find the fastest path. When they reached the corridor just outside, they remained still behind the corner and waited. The only way to the hostage was through a small room, which led to the room he was held in.

“Why aren't they coming towards us? They heard the shots, they should be moving already,” Natasha stated.

Maria nodded slightly, then looked over the corner. “There's a camera. Maybe they planted it to have a visual on us. They're waiting for us to be uncovered before ambushing us.”

“Do you have a visual on the camera?”

Maria nodded, taking the hint. Moving quickly she extended her arms over the corner, took a clean shot at the camera and then hid back behind the wall. “Let's hope that was the only one.”

After less than half a minute, they decided they had enough. Waiting around wouldn't have helped them, they were at an impasse. The only way forward was to get inside the small room and cross it, they just had to do so hoping nobody would shot them on sight. They went through all that trouble to get Maria there, after all, why would they kill her without at least trying to capture her?

“I'm going in first, you come in when I give you the all clear,”

“That doesn't make sense, I should go. If they shoot I'll just jump out of their range,” Natasha pointed out.

“I'm not risking your life. Plus, they wanted me here, they're not going to shoot me until they get what they want,”

Natasha was about to protest again, but Maria gave her a pointed look that told her there was nothing she could say to change her mind.

“On three, two, one.” Maria counted down, then opened the door and peeked inside. “It's too dark, I can't see a thing. I'm moving in,” she said, turning on her flashlight and holding it beside her gun. She stepped into the room.

Her feet were barely both inside the room when gunshots resonated in her ears. She counted three, but she couldn't see anyone around her, she had checked from outside, swiping the flashlight over almost the whole room and she was positive it was empty.

“Hill, are you hit?” Natasha's voice was barely a whisper, but they were still close enough that Maria could hear her loud and clear. “Maria?”

The light was turned on and the door opposite to the one she just got in from was opened as soon as Maria fell on her knees.

“We knew you would bring her directly into our arms,” The man who spoke to her through the video feed told her. “You took down so many of our facilities and yet, you were deceived by a simple hole in the wall,” his thick Russian accent made him sound even more satisfied than he was. “Two shots to the knees and one on your right hand, so you would have to drop your gun.”

He had been very precise with the shots. Maria couldn't stand on her feet and her hand was almost blown away. The bullets were bigger than she anticipated, because two of her fingers were cut off almost entirely. She hid her hand behind her back.

“You didn't want me here,” Maria realized. “You wanted the Black Widow.”

“We knew your only chance to come inside without being seen was through her. Thank you for bringing her to us.”

“I didn't. She's already jumped back. She's safe, far, far away from here.”

“Then there is no reason not to shoot you between the eyes right now,” the man stated, raising his gun.

“No!” Natasha's voice from behind the door made him smirk and Maria sigh. “If you kill her I'll jump back and you'll have lost me again.”

“We would find you again. There is no escaping the Red Room as long as you are still breathing, Devil's Keeper.”

“I'll stop breathing, then. Death is an old friend of mine, we've flirted so many times before I've lost count,” Natasha scorned him.

“You come with us immediately or we kill her,” the man warned her. “She took down many of our facilities alone, just for revenge, just for you. She must mean something to you.”

“Even if I wanted to, I couldn't come with you,” Natasha stated, not making a move from her spot behind the door. “You know I have to go back to the point the jump started.”

Maria kept her eyes on the three men, making sure none of them was moving for the door and in Natasha's direction. The guns were pointed at the doorway, except for the leader's arm, extended towards Maria herself.

“Too bad. We just have to kill her, then.”

“Give me a couple of hours. I'll jump back, then come here without time traveling, I'll have a Jet drop me off on the roof and I'll come with you. Just let her go. I heard three shots, and if you assessed her injuries correctly, she needs medical care.”

“You will exchange your freedom for hers?”

“Yes,” Natasha answered without hesitation.

“Good. Then we’ve picked the right person. Petrovitch has a message for you.”

Petrovitch was Bezukhov's right arm, he was another Red Room handler, the two of them were quite close. Natasha had hoped, since he never came for her, that he had been killed by Maria's team when they rescued her. But Natasha has never been a lucky person.

“Love is for children,” he said, smirking at Maria while raising his gun. “It makes you weak. He thought you had learned that by now,” he aimed the gun at Maria's head. “Any last words?”

“Did you kill the hostage?”

He was visibly surprised by that question. He hesitated. “No,”

Maria sighed. “You Red Room folks really are quite useless,” She had already retrieved the gun she kept in the holster at her ankle, so she quickly shot the two agents with the guns pointed at the doorway between the eyes, before they could realize what was happening.

The man, his gun still pointed towards Maria, stared at her with disbelieving eyes.

“This is not possible,” he shook his head, looking at Maria's right hand, which he hadn't checked since it was missing two fingers after his shot.

Maria rose up to her feet, as Natasha peeked around the corner to see who fired the two shots she heard. As she did so, she saw the man shoot at Maria again, hitting her left thigh, left elbow and right shoulder.

“You just _had_ to shoot me, hadn't you? I was going to arrest you, as I did with your buddies, and you actually seem to have some pretty valuable information. But I can't risk that now.”

She shot him, too, as she did with the other two, right between the eyes. When she turned around, slowly, Natasha was standing in the doorway, her eyes were scanning Maria's wounds one by one as each one healed completely without leaving a scar or even a faint reminder that it ever existed in the first place.

“You're a Healer.”

Suddenly, everything made sense. First and foremost, how Maria took out those facilities by herself making it out unscathed. She didn't. She just healed as soon as she got hit. It explained why Sharon wasn't concerned about rescuing her as much as she was about finding her and bringing her back, she must have known Maria wasn't at risk of getting herself killed in the crossfire. It explained why Fury sent her to the past to make her alter Maria's clinical records on her application to the army, she probably already had those powers when she enlisted. It explained how she made it out of the crumbling building where McGriffith lost two of his limbs without suffering any consequences. It explained why Maria had survived her synapses rearranging themselves when she should have died, giving Natasha the time to rebuild the memory of eight-year-old Maria meeting her.

Everything was suddenly so clear. It was right there in front of her the whole time. She actually felt quite embarrassed she hadn't figured it out before.

“You're an Inhuman.”

Maria didn't answer. She took a deep breath. Another. Then, she raised her arm and, suddenly, Natasha found herself staring right into the barrel of her gun.

“I can't risk anyone I don't trust with this information,” Her breathing was heavy. She was out of breath and tired, her strength drained by the quick succession of regeneration she had to endure, but nevertheless, she looked determined. “Can I trust you with this secret?”

Natasha felt the compelling impulse to smack her on the arm. Hard. Or to yell at Maria and ask if she really thought that the most stigmatized Inhuman in history would go around blabbing to the winds that Commander Hill of S.H.I.E.L.D. was an Inhuman, too. But if there was something she and Maria had always shared, even when they hadn't known each other, was the deep rooted knowledge that actions spoke louder than words, most of the time.

So Natasha stepped forward, until her forehead was almost touching Maria's gun. When the brunette immediately moved it away, Natasha grabbed her wrist and held it in place, putting the barrel against her forehead, and making sure Maria's index was on the trigger.

“Natasha-”

Instead of saying something, she used her right hand to take Maria's left and brought it to her neck, curling her fingers so Maria could feel her heartbeat and pressed to make sure she had no doubt on the rate it was beating to.

“You wrote my file, you know what my resting heart rate is. Time it. No rush, time it and then time it again and see if it's quick or increasing. I can spare you the trouble: it's not. You're holding a loaded gun against my head, your finger on the trigger, and I'm not flinching. I trust you with my life. It is, literally, in your hands. You can trust me with yours, Maria.”

She felt Maria pulling her right hand back and her wrist slipped away from Natasha's grip, she put her gun back in her holster. Natasha moved Maria's hand from her pulse point, but didn't let it go. Instead she turned her head slightly, brought it up to her lips and kissed Maria's palm. It was such an intimate thing to do. 

If Maria started suspecting Natasha had been using her off-handcuffs time to go back in order to be with her, she didn't say it. Instead, she gently caressed Natasha's cheek and surged forward, capturing Natasha's lips in a searing kiss.

It was nothing like the day before. It wasn't rushed and passionate. It was a promise. The promise of them learning to trust the other back.

To trust again.

They looked in each other's eyes for a second, and Natasha was absolutely certain they all had been wrong the whole time. Love never made her weak. Her love for Maria made her stronger than ever before.

After a moment, the spell was broken. They stepped back from the embrace and started to move toward the door leading to the room, where Maria's father was held hostage. When they entered, he was barely conscious. Maria untied him quickly, trying her hardest not to touch him. The only thing he said was his daughter's name, but it didn't sound like he was actually calling for her, it sounded like a man mumbling in his sleep.

“Let's go back,” Maria nodded to her when she was done freeing him.

Natasha nodded, clenching her wrist. She remember seeing him once before, when she travelled back to 1990. She remembered him. She still felt like punching him, but she knew that wouldn't have been professional, so she put a hand on Maria's shoulder, the other on his, then she jumped back.

  
  


One of the doctors put an intravenous sugar solution on him and, as soon as he regained consciousness, Maria's order would be to jump with Natasha and drop him home, returning as fast as possible so they could decide the best course of action regarding the newly found, still operative Red Room agents.

“You'll be in charge of the new team, Hill, we start hunting them down as soon as you come back from Chicago.”

“We don't need a team. With Black Widow's help I can-”

“You're taking a Quinjet, the handcuffs go back on as soon as this mission is over,” Fury stated firmly, glancing at Natasha as well. She nodded. On the contrary, Maria didn't even look at him. “You're also taking agents May, Carter, Coulson and, as soon as he's better, Barton too.”

“Yes, sir,” Maria whispered, eyes still on the glass, watching her father as he started to regain consciousness. “We'll drop him off right now, then start debriefing the others.”

“No, the doctor still needs to check him properly. Go have some lunch, both of you. Then complete the job.”

“Yes, sir,” both of them said immediately.

They made their way to the cafeteria and sat down together. Maria had barely touched her lunch at all when Natasha was almost finished.

“You don't have to come, you know? I can go alone, it'll take just a second.”

“I'd rather you didn't travel without handcuffs unsupervised,” Maria said with a neutral tone.

“Why not? Fury told me that, when they thought I sold you out when me and Barton were ambushed, he made Fitz-Simmons check two or three of my jumps, and they checked out. You may not trust me yet, but surely you trust them?”

“I don't know how you're cheating-” Maria started, eyes fixed on her plate.

“I'm not.”

“Don't lie to me. You made a compelling speech about trust, but it's going to lose its meaning if you just lie to my face.”

“I’m just suggesting that I drop him off alone to spare you the trouble. If you want to come too, then that's fine with me. The more the merrier.”

“Why shouldn't I want to come?” Maria asked in a neutral tone, eyes still on her plate.

“Because,” Natasha started, her voice firm, but she realized there was no way to continue that sentence. She saw him raise a hand, nothing more, when Maria was eight. She had no way to explain to her why she was so sure Maria didn't want to see him unless she admitted to her escapades to the past, where Maria told her time and time again how she had no family to go back to in Chicago, how she left it all behind and tried everyday to forgot all about that.

“I'm not afraid of him,” Maria told her, raising her eyes.

“I know.” Natasha wanted to add he should be the one who was afraid, because if Maria agreed to let her go alone, the Black Widow certainty couldn't be blamed if they were in a terrible accident because they landed in the wrong place and he was smashed by an oncoming truck.

Maria's eyes shifted down again. “It's a lot of trouble they went through. To send such a short message.”

“Love is for children?” Natasha pondered. “It means no matter where my heart belongs, I will always be their property first. That no matter how far I go, I can leave the Red Room but the Red Room will never leave me. It means I will never be truly able to love and be loved back, I will never be free from them. It's a reminder, that my fate is already sealed, that I'm the Devil's Keeper. They never, ever, let me forget that.”

“Do you believe that? That you'll never truly love anyone?”

Natasha surely couldn't tell her, “ _I've been dating you for twelve days – they were two years to you – and I'm not sure I could ever go back to life without you. Isn't that dangerously close already?”_ And she certainly couldn't tell her “ _I've kissed your present self twice and my fingers are hitching to grab yours, it never happened to me, it was never supposed to happen to me, I was never supposed to meet you and feel this way about you.”_

“I have a favour to ask. Don't take this as blackmail or anything similar, you're absolutely free to say no and I still won't utter a word about what I saw today.”

Maria just frowned.

“I've been thinking about Drakov's daughter a lot. Someone saved her when she was on the verge of death, a doctor couldn't have done that, she was too far gone. I wanted to ask Fury if he was able to get me in contact with an Inhuman fit to help, but I think I already know who helped me save her.”

Maria's eyebrow shot up. “Me? No, my powers don't work like that, I can only use them on myself,” she explained.

“You're a Healer. You're not meant to only use them on yourself. Actually, you probably wouldn't have found out you could use them that way if you weren't in the army. Healers usually are doctors who come in touch with the Terrigen and are given that power to help save others.”

Maria shook her head. “Then I'm not a Healer. I wasn't even in the army yet.”

“You weren't?” Natasha frowned. “Then how did you-”

Maria saw the moment she understood. She saw it in her eyes.

“We should go back. Get this over with,” Maria said, standing up. Then she seemed to hesitate. “We could, if you would want to, practice together. You can teach me. I can learn how to heal others, then I can help with Dominika.”

Natasha got up and nodded, she opened her lips but quickly realized she was about to admit again to something she shouldn't be aware of. She wanted to let Maria know that she subconsciously already knew how to use that power. Natasha had a bruised rib and a twisted ankle the day before, and she was in tip top shape when she came back after spending the night in Maria's arms. Even while sleeping, even in 2001, Maria was already able to heal others. She did it with Natasha just by holding her, just by wanting to make her feel safe and neither one of them even noticed until that very moment, when Natasha finally put the pieces together.

Maria was a Healer. Natasha was a Time Traveler. Together, they could have saved the whole world. Then, she was forced to ask herself, what happened? What could be so horrible and burdening to turn Natasha into the Devil's Keeper? That question was becoming increasingly scarier for the both of them.


	16. Veritas Vos Liberabit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 2007, March 8th-9th : The Black Widow turns herself in and is brought to the Helicarrier  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 16th -19th: Natasha jumps to 2001 and meets Maria on March, June and September  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 23rd: Natasha goes to August 17th, 2002 and meets Maria after her first tour  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 27th: Clint was injured in Budapest. Natasha kisses present-day Maria.  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 28th: Maria's father is kidnapped by the Red Room, Maria and Natasha rescue him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TRIGGER WARNING:** mention of child abuse, please don't read this chapter if its mention triggers you, I'll make sure to have a small summary at the beginning of the next one.

**[August, 1990 – Chicago]**

Maria liked to play pretend, like kids tended to do when they're bored. Unlike others, she was used to doing so most of the time. She never had many toys to play with, and, aside from a game she’d learnt from a lady she met once, she didn't know many games at all. When she couldn't get to the buttons and sewing supplies, she sat as quietly as she could and closed her eyes, imagining how her life could have been in a perfect world.

First and foremost, her mother would be alive and well. Her family would be happy and her father would have drank a lot less than he did. About a year ago, he started drinking more and sometimes he would get home so wasted he could barely make it to the couch. It could happen, in those moments he was addled, that he would get excessively mad at her for something silly or deemed unimportant by Maria herself. A dozen of times, he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her while he reprimanded her for her actions. A few times, he’d raised a hand against her. Maria could still feel her cheek burning with pain if she thought too hard about it.

She tried not to think about that at all, but it wasn't easy. Something would always remind her.

She started spending a lot of time at her grandmother's house, where her grandmother would play with and talk to her, she would tell Maria stories about her mom, Inhumans, super powers, and even about a lady in a portrait. Her father often forgot to pick her up in the evening, if he was too drunk, or when he did remember and brought her back to sleep in her own bed, he would barely acknowledge her. It was still better than when he came home and she was there. He was never happy when she was in his way, but it inevitably happened eventually, more often than Maria would have liked.

Her grandma loved her and Maria loved her back, but her grandma had a job and her father was still, legally at least, her father. So she endured.

One night he was drunk and angry, more so than Maria had ever saw him before. When he was done with her, Maria’s lip was bruised and her cheek scratched. She fled to her room and cried her heart out silently so he wouldn't hear her and punish her further.

The next day her grandmother put ice on her lip and kissed her scratch better. Maria was too young to understand why her grandmother couldn't just bring her to the police. She didn’t understand that her father was her legal guardian and if he wasn't arrested, he would never let her see Maria again. Even if they reported him and he was arrested, there was no guarantee that a court would let her grandma be Maria's legal guardian. But they never had evidence before, he never left her more than a tiny bruise that he could justify by a kid falling down. This was different, she was sporting the print of his fingers on her face.

“Wait here, love. I'll take my purse and be right back.”

Her grandma was gone for less than a minute, it couldn't have been longer than that. But, even if she didn't know it yet, that was the one minute in Maria's life that changed everything. It was the most important minute of the world.

Maria got up from the bed she was sitting on when her grandmother was disinfecting her scratch and walked towards the open drawer of the nightstand. She immediately recognized the box. It was the one containing the album with all of her mother's pictures. She hadn't seen them in a while, so she carefully took the box out of the drawer and put it on the bed, sitting beside it and taking the lid off.

The album was there, but something beside it captured her attention. There was something carefully wrapped in paper, but curiosity got the best of her and she unwrapped it quickly, wondering why her grandma would keep something like that in that box only to have it wrapped so tight it couldn't be seen. The paper came off easily revealing a strangely shaped crystal, black as night.

Maria's fingers barely brushed its surface when the noise caused by something hitting the ground distracted her.

“Maria, no!”

Her grandma was standing in the doorway, her purse fallen to the ground. Maria's hand retracted sharply and time seemed to stop as the crystal she was holding fell to the ground, at her feet, and there was immediately a black mist rising from it. Her grandmother ran to her, kneeling beside her and taking her forearm. She looked down and Maria followed her gaze.

“Grandma, what's happening to my fingers? They're black!”

When Maria looked at her grandmother again, she could see pain and sadness in the teary eyes of the woman, making her even more scared and confused.

“My child, my sweet child. Oh, Maria, you're too young. You're not ready. Not my sweet child, not my Maria.”

Her grandmother hugged her tightly, but the blackness kept spreading from her fingers to her arm, then reached her shoulders and covered her torso.

Maria's grandmother was worried that Maria was about to get killed by the Terrigen crystal. The small girl was too young, and it was rare for people to be transformed at her age. Usually, the challenges life posed to them were never enough to cause the mutation and the crystal would generally turn to dust. She’d never seen the transformation before, but she knew what was about to happen and she wept with sorrow, hugging her only granddaughter and wishing she’d hidden the crystal better.

Before Maria could understand what was happening, the blackness swallowed her whole.

She felt the change while it was happening, she felt it all over, feeling different without knowing how so. Not until she was able to finally open her eyes again and she looked at her grandmother, still kneeling on the ground, her eyes still filled with tears. Her grandmother looked at her like she was witnessing a miracle. Then, she gently caressed Maria's cheek, right where her cut had been a couple of minutes before.

“You're healed,” her voice was soft and she sounded astonished.

Maria turned her head and looked at herself in the mirror. Her lip was back to normal, the scratch and bruises gone. The imprint of her father's fingers weren't on her cheek anymore, and she was no longer in any pain. Her grandma was right. Physically, she was healed.

But when she turned back to her grandmother, the pain was back in the woman's eyes, the temporary relief of seeing her granddaughter alive lasting only a few seconds.

“We can't report him,” her grandma whispered. But in Maria's ears, it might as well have been a shout. Her grandma helped her back on the bed and once she was seated she knelt before her again. “Listen to me, love. The crystal you touched, it was a Terrigen. I told you about those, you remember?”

Maria nodded. They were the crystals which gave powers to Inhumans. But if that was true and she touched one, that meant she was one of them now.

“You can never tell this to anyone, Maria. Not even your father. This needs to be between just the two of us, alright?”

Maria nodded again. Then, she realized why her grandmother's eyes looked so sad. She didn't mean they couldn't report him that time, she meant they could never report him at all. If Maria had really acquired the ability to heal herself, that meant there would never be proof against him. The means of survival the Terrigen gave her would be her very own damnation. She was doomed to a life she could never escape, because the very thing that should have protected her was now helping her abuser.

_Of course_ her own power would act against her.

“It's okay, grandma. At least he'll never hurt me again.”

Her grandmother nodded, but she knew all the ways that Maria was wrong. She couldn't tell an eight year old how the deepest wounds weren't the ones that her powers could heal, they weren't the ones that appeared on the skin at all. How could she ever tell sweet Maria that the greatest harm a person could ever inflict on another was on the soul? So she nodded and smiled through the tears.

And Maria smiled back.

  
  


**[March, 1991 – Chicago]**

Maria learned to keep to herself. In order to avoid her father, she stayed as much as possible with her grandmother, she tried to always spend the afternoon there, so if he was drunk enough he wouldn't bother to go pick her up and if he wasn't that drunk, well, he wouldn't get as mad at her after he brought her back home. If he did, it was never more than a harsh reprimand to correct a behavior which – in his mind – shouldn't be condoned. He was not a loving father, but his words left no bruises or scratches he could notice vanishing as soon as they appeared, so her secret was safe.

It worked for a while. But the day came when her father went to pick her up early, then went back out and came home while Maria was making them dinner. He walked through the kitchen and Maria smelled the scent of whiskey he left behind him, but kept her eyes on the pan and kept making the scrambled eggs.

“Get out of here, kid,” he told her while walking behind her. He bumped into her, almost like it was an accident, and maybe it was.

She got squished against the counter and her hand brushed the hot pan. She cried in pain and her father turned to her, but she was quick to hide her hand behind her back, dropping the spatula on the counter.

“Lemme see that,” her father demanded, grabbing her arm. “You might be hurt.”

“I'm not, I'm okay.”

“I saw your hand brush the pan,” he told her bitterly. “Always causing problems, aren't you?” He grabbed her arm and tugged it, taking a closer look at her hand.

“See? I'm okay.”

“You screamed.”

“I lost my balance, I'm sorry, I thought I'd get burned but I didn't,”

He eyed her suspiciously, but let her go. Maria run up to her room, leaving the eggs behind. Her father stayed there, looking at the pan. He was absolutely sure he saw her get burned, but then again, he had quite a few drinks with his friends. He shook his head and ate the eggs.

  
  


A couple of weeks later, it happened again. Maria was making herself a sandwich and he was sure he saw her cut herself but when he got to her, her hand was fine. That time, she remembered to grab her sandwich before running up to her room and shutting the door.

He shook his head, trying to clear it, trying to convince himself he was just seeing things. But then he looked down at the knife Maria was using to make the sandwich. He lifted it up. And there it was, clear as light, the stain of blood on the blade, barely visible, but it was there. Something wasn't right.

  
  


The third time was almost a month later, when Maria slipped on the ice covering the street while walking on the driveway. It was a nasty fall, but when he got to her, there wasn't a scratch on her, no matter how long he looked at her face. Then he saw her eyes, looking with terror at the ground. He looked there too and on the white frost there was an unmistakable red stain. Maria run as fast as she could up to her room and closed the door behind her, but once he reached it there was little used in an unlocked door, albeit it was closed.

He dragged her down to the kitchen and rummaged around the drawer for a while, then got a knife out of it. Maria walked back, trying to wiggle off of his hold, but it was worthless. She was nine and he was three times her size.

He grabbed her hand and opened her fingers, then put the tip of the knife to her palm. It wasn't to hurt her, it wasn't deep or big or nasty. It was half a centimeter long and very superficial, it was merely a test. He watched her skin repair itself with mesmerized eyes, then looked at Maria again, like he saw her for the first time.

“You're like _her_.”

It was barely a whisper, but it was enough. She tugged as much as she could and her hand was freed from her father's hold, then she ran up to her room again, praying he wouldn't come to get her once more. Luckily, he didn't. In fact, from that day on, he avoided her as much as he could.

  
  


**[April 3rd, 1992 – Chicago]**

It was on the tenth anniversary of Maria's mother's death – also known as Maria's tenth birthday by those who valued the living more than the departed – when her father started getting worse. Maria thought, before that day, that he was bad. A bad man, a bad father, a bad son-in-law, he was just a bad person _._ But she hadn't seen anything just yet.

He’d drunk so much he passed out by ten in the morning. When he woke up, Maria was gone. She walked to her grandma's house by herself after school and stayed there, eating the cake she baked for her birthday and unwrapping her present, hoping her father wouldn't come.

But he did. A few minutes after five, a knock at the door announced a guest and both Maria and the older woman knew there was only one person who would go there at that hour on a Friday.

“I'm taking her home.”

“You're drunk, you can't drive. Why don't you both stay here?”

“I'm not staying here,”

Maria winced at the anger in his voice.

“Maria is,”

“No, she's not. She's my daughter, and she's coming with me.”

And that was it. They went home and she tried to be as quiet and as still as possible, not daring to challenge his patience in a moment like that. He drove and miraculously brought them home alive and without accidents. Once there, Maria went up to her room, trying to make no noise while on the stairs and quietly closed the door behind her. She laid on her bed and read again and again the letter her grandma gave her, the one her mother wrote.

“ _I have seen your life, sweet baby of mine, I have been there beside you as it happened. The greatest adventures await you and the greatest sorrows, too. You're meant to save our kind, redeem our name and be our keeper. You will see hope where others saw death, my love, you will see the angel within the devil._ ”

Her mother knew her. Her mother saw her. Her mother loved her.

Maria had never even met her mother, yet she was a better parent than her father could have ever been or become, and Maria was glad for that. For the letter she left. For the love in her words. It made feel less lonely, less lost.

When dinner time came around, her grumbling stomach prompted her to go downstairs and fix herself something to eat. That was her first mistake.

She tried to be quiet but her father was sleeping with his head on the kitchen table, an half empty glass of whiskey just beside it. She knew she had to make something quickly and without noise, so she took two slices of bread and made a sandwich with some ham and tomatoes. She knew she could easily carry it to her bedroom, but she would have inevitably left crumbs all over and her father would have been mad at her. Or, she could have eaten in the kitchen, but if she woke her father he would have been mad at her also. There was no good choice to make, so she sat down and ate at the table like her grandma taught her was the proper way to eat.

That was her second mistake.

She was almost done, when her father started grumbling something unfathomable and his fingers started wiggling towards the glass. She sat paralyzed for a moment, then quickly finished her sandwich and raised from her chair to put the dish in the sink. The noise of ceramic hitting aluminum was enough to woke up her father for good.

“What are you doing?” he grunted.

“Nothing,” she said too quickly. “I was just having dinner.”

“I thought I told you to stay in your room, you're too loud.”

“You didn't tell me that,” Maria said in a whisper. Talking back, _that_ was her third and worst mistake that night.

The fight escalated quickly and harsh words were said by both of them. Maria didn't remember it all much clearly, she only recalled the conversation in flashes. Sentences she wasn't even sure were said: “You're not a real father,” - those were her words - or “You're the reason she died,” - her father's - or “I wish she was alive instead of you, she would have been a real parent,” - those were definitely her words - kept playing in her mind for days, but if those were uttered or if her mind had just filled the blanks with her own thoughts, she would never be able to tell.

But she did remember quite clearly what came after.

She knew she said something very bad and she almost regretted it as soon as it was out of her mouth, but there was no time to second guess it or apologize, because a slap followed quickly after her words.

She was left breathless for a second, feeling her cheek burn and wiping her lip. There was blood. A strange, tingling feeling she was quickly becoming familiar with started spreading around the wound and when she wiped her lip again a second later, she wasn't bleeding anymore. Her father's eyes were a little fearful and, for once, Maria wasn't the one in the room who was the most frightened.

“You can't hurt me anymore,” she said out of a spite she almost didn't recognize as her own.

If only she could have imagined the many ways in which she was wrong.

Because it didn't matter to him if he couldn't leave marks anymore. For some inconceivable reason, he kept trying to.

But those adventures her mother wrote about in her letters, the promise of a life filled with happiness, they kept her going even in the darkest of times.

  
  


**[April 3rd, 1994 – Chicago]**

From that day on, he went back to ignoring her again. She tried to stay over at her grandmother's as often as possible. But eventually, he'd pick her up, bring her home, at least once or twice a week. And, once or twice a month, the events of the evening of her tenth birthday, would repeat themselves.

He wasn't quite as tenacious. He was never that drunk, but also she was slowly growing up, turning into a woman. And if there was something to say about her father was that he was an old-fashioned man.

As old-fashioned as a man like him could be, raising a daughter on his own, living off of his departed wife's life insurance, drinking himself to death slowly. He could hit his kid and put the blame on whiskey, yet he couldn't quite as easily hit a lady. Something about that was twisted and wrong and Maria hoped this assumption was wrong; maybe he simply saw the wrongs in his ways and wanted to stop but couldn't quite do it all at once; like one would do when trying to stop smoking, going from two packs a day, to one, to ten cigarettes, then to five.

But the night of her twelfth birthday – or the twelfth anniversary of her mother's death, as her father would always remember that day – he numbed himself into a slumber early in the morning. When he went to pick her up, he could barely stand on his own, yet he insisted on driving.

The ride home was twelve minutes long. Maria had counted the seconds many times. He was quiet for half of it.

“How was school?”

She kept looking out her window. “Fine.”

A harsh hand pulled her face towards the driver seat. “Look at me when I talk to you. Show your father some respect.”

Maria scoffed and pulled her chin out of his hand. “Fine.”

He turned briefly to her. His eyes were surprisingly sober right then. His hand was still stretched and when he reached for her again, it wasn't harsh anymore. It was a gentle caress on her cheek. It was almost...loving.

“You look more and more like her everyday,” he whispered almost reverently.

That was the thing that set her off. Not the beatings, not the drinking, not even his accusation of Maria having murdered her own mother. It was that. The affection he showed her right then.

Because she could clearly see in his eyes that he loved her mother and he was capable of loving his daughter, too. He was _able_ to. He wasn't the sociopathic monster Maria had convinced herself that he was, he was a man capable of caring for others, capable of loving others. He simply chose not to love _her_. He had chosen that kind of life for them, even though he could have given them a different one.

He chose to break her the way he did.

Before she even realized that she’d made a decision, her hand was already on the wheel. A second later, the car was driving off the road, crashing into the guardrail and turning turtle.

  
  


The first thing she felt as she regained consciousness was the dull pain in her head. The second was the devastating pain in her right leg. She looked down. It was at least broken in three different places from ankle to hip as it got stuck between the crumbled car door and the dashboard somehow. Her left arm was in a pretty bad shape, too. She crawled out of the car slowly and laid down on the cold, damp grass. She breathed in, trying to calm her heart rate, with little to no success. She could feel her leg starting to heal and she let that happen, similarly with the fracture in her arm. But she left all the scratches, the bruises, the bleeding. She learned how to control her power enough to only heal the wounds she wanted to heal and leave the others where they were.

Her father had given her many opportunities to practice, after all.

After a few seconds, the pain was too much and she passed out again.

The noise that woke her again was the siren of an approaching ambulance. Then some people were checking on her, calling her name, trying to make her stay awake. She couldn't. Sleep was too comforting and the pain too sharp.

  
  


A police officer was in her hospital room when she woke up.

“Hello, Maria,”

“What happened?”

“You were in a car accident. Your father was driving, do you remember that?”

She was quiet for a moment, then nodded.

“You don't look surprised.”

“He always does it, it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“Does what?”

“Drinking and driving.”

The lady nodded, sighing a little. “Maria, your father wasn't seriously injured but he was arrested. He was drunk, he had a minor on the vehicle, his license was expired. He might be in jail for a while.”

“Good.”

The officer looked taken aback by that answer. “You're going to have to stay with your grandmother for a while.”

“Good.”

The police officer looked puzzled, but she realized Maria was probably still traumatized and, in addition to that, she just admitted her father was used to drinking and driving. Who knew what else she was used to. The officer wanted to ask but she wasn't sure it would have done any good. Besides, all of Maria's injuries were consistent with a car crash. There was no reason to suspect anything else.

  
  


**[December 3rd, 2000 – New York]**

The two years she spent with her grandma had been two of the happiest years of her life. She finally knew what a happy childhood was supposed to be like. She felt free and content, she felt like things were finally working out.

She went to school, got the best grades in her class, and kept waiting for the adventures her mother told her about in her letters. She was a great student, a loving granddaughter, she helped around the house as much as she could, and always tried her best to fit in, despite being so different from everyone else. She was happy, and yet she hoped for more, she willed those adventures to come quickly so they could light up her days.

Instead, the great sorrows her mother talked about seemed to have no end.

Her grandmother got really sick and eventually died, all in a span of three months. There wasn't even enough time to get her emancipated, to make her inherit the house so she could finish her studies there. It was all so suddenly ripped from her, she barely got to experience happiness before it was once again blown away.

She was sent to a group foster home and, shortly after, she realized there were no great adventures awaiting, only a rough path ahead, and the weight of a life barely worth living. She did her best to stay at the top of her class, she graduated a year in advance and as soon as she was eighteen, she enlisted into the military.

When she packed a bag to leave, she realized she could easily fit her life’s belongings into that small duffle bag. A few clothes, a few belongings, a letter and some photographs. Though her grandma's house was now legally hers, she left everything she couldn't carry with her there, and moved on. She left Chicago with the clothes on her back and the sole duffel bag she carried, no second thoughts, no remorse.

She reached New York City on the 3rd of December. She dropped her things in a hotel room and went sightseeing. She was on top of the Chrysler Building when her life changed forever.

There was quite a large crowd, but a woman stuck out among them. She was breathtakingly stunning, red hair and green eyes lost among the city… but grossly underdressed for the weather. Yet, she seemed to barely notice the cold.

There was something about her that struck Maria like a flash of lightning. There was something about that woman that made her stomach turn and her heart beat to the rhythm of staccatic beating drums; a music she could almost hear playing in the background, like the world was suddenly filled with sound, with colour, with light, because of that woman breathing in the freezing air of New York.

“Aren't you freezing?”

The woman turned to her. Maria’s world was changed. And her life began.

  
  


**[April 28th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Natasha couldn't help but stand aside and watch in amazement while Maria gave order upon order outside the room where her father was waiting for them. The Russian had already seen Maria while she was dealing with official matters, but it never cease to amaze Natasha how decisive, assertive and precise Maria was while doing her job.

When everything was decided and they were ready, they got in. Natasha spotted the surprise in the man's eyes when he realize that the woman giving those orders and making every decision outside his door was his own daughter.

“We're taking you home,” Maria told him without so much as a greeting.

He got up from the bed and looked at her, as if he was searching for something. Something in her eyes or on her face.

Natasha stepped forward and laid a hand on the man's shoulder. He frowned. She reached out with the other and Maria took it. Then, the three of them disappeared from the Helicarrier and reappeared on a small, dark alley nearby the address he indicated as his home.

“What the hell was that?!”

“We're near your house, in a discreet alley, we're walking you home in case there are other agents waiting to ambush you. Two FBI agents will survey your house and workplace until we're sure you're safe,” Maria explained.

“No, I meant- did we just-” he stumbled over his words. “Teleport?”

Maria and Natasha ignored him and started walking down the street, carefully keeping an eye on their surroundings. When they arrived to his house, a black car was already parked outside. Two men got out, showing them their FBI badges.

“Commander Hill, right?”

“Yes. You're in charge of him as of now. Good luck,” Maria told them, nodding her head once.

“We'll be in the car, ma’am. If you have any problem, just call us,” one of them instructed.

Maria and Natasha walked past the car and accompanied him along the driveway. He got to the door, then turned around.

“Thank you. For coming to my rescue.”

“I didn't. I had orders to capture or neutralize those men.”

Maria's tone wasn't harsh per se. But the fact that she admitted she wouldn't have gone to his rescue if she hadn't been ordered to do so, lingered between them.

“You're a Commander,” he said instead. “You turned out quite well. I'm...” he glanced at Natasha, as if he didn't want to admit something incriminating in somebody's presence. “I'm sorry. About everything. But I'm glad that despite the difficult time I was going through when you were little, you still turned out good.”

For a long, silent moment, Natasha thought she couldn't have possibly heard him right. He couldn't have possibly just said that to Maria. But when Maria's lips slightly parted and her expression changed to one of utter disbelief, she realized she heard him just right.

“The _difficult time you were going through_?” Maria repeated his words slowly, tasting them on her tongue like an aged wine.

“Maria-”

“I thought a lot about what you would say to me if you ever saw me again. I had a system, when I was younger, to try to force myself not to think about you. I'd learn a few words in another language every time you barged yourself into my thoughts, just so I would be able to distract myself from the lump in my throat, the weight in my chest and the bile in my stomach. I could speak Spanish and French by the time I finished high school, I picked up German, Italian and Portuguese before this method started working. I lived everyday of my life, every single day, carrying around the memories of what you did to me, carrying this terrible secret I could never tell anyone because it meant putting myself in danger, because you used the greatest gift life gave to me against me. It was the only good thing I had, my power, and you used it to ruin me, you tarnished it just like you tainted me and everything else I've ever known. You _ruined_ me.”

Her words were clear and sharp. So much so that even Natasha felt unsettled by how much those thoughts had haunted Maria, how much she must have thought about the chance of ever meeting him again.

“And I thought, if what you did made me feel like that, you would be a million times worse than me, because it was your fault, it was on you, so it was only fair. But the day came when you got out of jail and didn't even bother to write or call to apologize. The day came when I found out you were getting re-married. The day came when I found out you were going to have another kid. And I realized, you didn't carry this like I did. There was no weight on your chest, there was no coping mechanism you would come up with to help you through your days, there was no fear that crippled you and made you afraid of making too much noise when putting a pan in the sink, or cooking eggs, or laughing too hard when watching TV. It's just me, I'm the only one who carries this weight, and I do so for the both of us. You used my power against me, because nobody could know what happened to me, since none of the million scars you left me were on my skin. But those scars were there whether they could be seen or not, and I carried them for years before they started to fade. Now I'm not afraid anymore.”

There was something almost sacred in the way Maria said those words, like she was making a confession. Her words were still calm, still clear and sharp, but her eyes were hosting a storm.

“Maybe _I still turned out good_ , yes, but you don't get to use this to find solace, you don't get to use this as an excuse to lessen your guilt. I'm stronger than what you did to me, but this doesn't justify what you put me through. I built myself back up, but the knowledge I had the strength to do so, shouldn't make you feel better for the fact that you broke me apart in the first place.”

“Maria-”

“And I might have saved your life today, but you've been dead to me for a very long time.”

She turned around and walked away, Natasha followed her lead. It wasn't an happy closure, but she never expected one. She knew what things were, what they had been and what they would become. There was no happiness for her to be found there.

She never looked back again.


	17. I have loved the stars too fondly, to be fearful of the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 1990: Maria acquires her power; 1991: her father discovers it  
> |  
> ○ → 1994: Maria and her father are in a car accident, he's arrested, her grandmother gets custody  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, March 8th-9th : The Black Widow turns herself in and is brought to the Helicarrier  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 16th -19th: Natasha jumps to 2001 and meets Maria on March, June and September  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 23rd: Natasha goes to August 17th, 2002 and meets Maria after her first tour  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 27th: Clint was injured in Budapest. Natasha kisses present-day Maria.  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 28th: Maria's father is kidnapped by the Red Room, Maria and Natasha rescue him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the previous chapter there was a trigger warning, if you skipped that, here is a brief **summary** : Maria grew up in an abusive home, after gaining her power the situation didn't improve, when her father gets in an car accident he is arrestde for drinking and driving and she goes to live with her grandma, who dies a couple of years after, resulting in Maria getting placed in a foster home, until she's eighteen and leaves her city to join the army.

**[April 28th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Sharon had been in the same room, with the same Red Room agent on the other side of the desk, ever since Maria and Natasha had brought him in. Right after she made sure there was no secret suicide devices, pills, or any other contraption hidden anywhere on him, she had started questioning him.

They were at an impasse. 

Mainly because Sharon had been slowly giving away all the knowledge she had, and the man had revealed nothing in return.

They’d dug up his family information--all relatives were dead. Previous employments held nothing unexpected. He had a criminal record; not really surprising either.

Sharon tried every line of questioning, she tried to get even the tiniest bit of information out of him, but nothing gave. Only when Maria and Natasha came back after taking Maria's father back to Chicago was the mystery solved. 

“He won't talk. He thinks the Red Room will kill him if he does,” Natasha made her opinion very clear.

“Why would he think that?” Sharon sighed.

“Because the Red Room _will_ kill him if he does.”

“They can't reach him here. We can protect him, we can-”

“He thinks they would find a way,” Natasha explained.

“Why is that?” Sharon started to sound exasperated.

“Because they will find a way.”

“This isn't helping,” Maria stated, side-eyeing Natasha. “I'll take the other we brought in, maybe I'll have better luck.”

“Luck has no part in this,” Natasha merely stated. “I can help if you let me.”

“No, I won't let you expose yourself more than you already have, none of their agents made it back, as far as they know, you're our prisoner. I won't have you walk into an interrogation room to talk to one of them. What if one escapes?”

“We're inside an impenetrable fort suspended in air, Maria. They're not going anywhere. Let me help with this.”

Maria held her gaze, then shook her head. “You stay outside. I'll signal you through the glass if I need you in.”

Natasha knew protesting again wouldn't get her anywhere, so she did as she was ordered and watched as one of the agents was brought on another interrogation room. Maria entered after he was handcuffed to the table, his file in hand.

“State your name,” she said firmly almost as soon as she was seated. Predictably, she was met with silence. She opened the file, it contained pages amongst pages, all of them blank except for the one on top, with a picture of him on it and some basic information they got simply by using facial recognition on men with criminal records in Russia. “Sergej Andreevic.”

He looked slightly surprised, but immediately hid it.

Maria sighed, closing the file, knowing it had nothing inside. “I can read this to you, everything we have on you, on your organization, but this won't help you. What will help you is cooperating with us and tell us something we might not know. You do that and we'll keep you in a safe, nice, comfortable jail all your life.”

He snorted. Then smiled smugly.

“Doesn't sound appealing, does it? So don't help us,” Maria shrugged. “I'll put you in a minimal security cell in the middle of New York City. Sounds good? I'll even go on national television and tell everybody how lucky we were to have captured the one nice Red Room agent who helped us with our investigations. How long do you think will take them to get to you? With the bureaucracy we have nowadays, this might be quicker than a death sentence.”

The smile left his lips, but he didn't say a word.

“Let's try again. Who sent you today?”

Still, nothing.

“Did you use to work in one of the facilities that were brought down?”

Nothing.

“How long have you been a Red Room agent?”

Silence, still.

Then, a quiet “I won't talk. None of us will. Whatever you might do to us, it's nothing in comparison to what they will do if we talk,”

“One of you already did talk,” was Maria's turn to smirk. “And guess what happened? Nothing. No one came for us,”

“Bullshit. None of us talked.”

“Then how did we find you? How did we bring down all those facilities in so little time? I think you do know that wouldn't have been possible without someone to give us intel.”

He looked at her carefully, gauging her words.

“I won't talk. None of us ever will.”

“Really? Because I think you might know her, the Red Room associate who did talk to us,” she told him and watched closely as his face went pale.

Maria got up slowly, then walked out of the room. She was aware Sharon probably had ran out of ideas, since she'd been inside the other room for the better part of the day. And the mention of someone surrendering and still alive seemed to be the only thing that brought a reaction out of the man in front of her. There was no other way.

“Ready to let me do the thing, now?” Natasha asked after a moment of silence.

“You come in. You only speak if I nod to you. If he tries to attack you, you come out right away and don't engage with him in any way. Are we clear?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Natasha replied with a smirk.

Maria opened the door again and walked in, waiting for Natasha to step in as well before closing the door again. She was ready to resume her questions, but as soon as the man raised his eyes and saw Natasha standing there, something changed radically in his demeanour. His eyes went wide and he shook his head fiercely, then pulled his handcuffed wrists with all his strength. When he realized he couldn't loosen them, he pushed back against the chair and fell to his knees, starting to frantically murmur something in Russian.

While Maria stood there, astonished, Natasha didn't seem overly surprised by the reaction. She slowly walked towards the man who was still whispering under his breath. For a moment, Maria thought Natasha was going to answer to what she could only assume were insults either by talking back or by beating him up, but Natasha just calmly walked to his side, then took his face in one hand, to make him tilt his chin towards her.

She said something to him. It was one, two, three words at most. But he grew instantly quiet. He uttered not a single word, not even the fearful gibberish of a moment before.

Natasha let go of his chin and took hold of his jacket with both of her hands, bringing him up and into his chair again. She picked up Maria's pen from the other side of the table, clicked on it, then forced it into his hand. She opened his file, got one of the white pages Maria threw in for volume, then put it in front of him, on top of the table. She guided his wrist so that the tip of the pen in his hand touched the sheet.

“I can't do this. You know I can't.”

“Start writing,” she said in a low, dark voice.

“I can't,”

Maria could see his hand trembling and the drops of sweat on his forehead. His eyes searched the room in terror and confusion.

“You remember what Ivan taught us?” Natasha leaned in a little closer, just enough that her lips could almost touch the man's ear. “The Black Widow is lazy with her prey, she weaves her net outside her home and waits for the prey to fall in, she isn't picky. She kills everything that falls in it. You're not the one I want for my revenge, but you fell into my web. Either you give me someone else, or I'll have to make do with you. Start writing, Sergej. I want everything, I want addresses to the still-standing facilities, names of the new bosses, everything you can think of,”

He nodded, clutching the pen tighter, and started writing as soon as Natasha let go of him. She walked out the door and, after letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, Maria followed her out as well.

The silence stretched between them as they waited for him to put the pen down. It was taking longer than anticipated.

“So,” Maria cleared her voice. “You know him?”

“Never saw him before,”

Maria's eyes shot to her. “But-”

“They're all the same. Terrified of me, terrified of Bezukhov, terrified of the Red Room. The few who aren't this scared are either too stupid to be, or too far up the ladder. And we're not that lucky, so I'd say Sharon's guy must be the former.”

Maria looked at her a moment longer, studying her face as Natasha kept her eyes on the man inside their interrogation room.

“What did he say to you?”

“He complimented my hair,”

“Natasha,” she admonished her.

“It wasn't relevant. I'll go see if Carter has anything. Otherwise, I'll tell Fury to get a tech team ready to validate his intel, then we can leave as soon as you deem appropriate, Commander Hill.”

Maria watched her leave, without being able to get another word in.

While waiting for the man to finish writing, Maria had the brief portion of the video of Natasha and their prisoner conversing in Russian sent to Bobbi, asking her to translate it for her. Bobbi told her it was just him begging for his life, begging her to let him leave, to let him go. He spoke to her as if she wore the title of a queen, Morse had told her, he spoke to her with a fear and reverence that unsettled her. Maria was more interested in what Natasha replied. Bobbi explained the last thing he told her was that he was at her mercy, the world was at her mercy and the Devil himself was at her mercy. That was when Natasha took his chin and told him, “I am the Devil,” and nothing else.

Maria just couldn't believe that after everything they went through, Natasha still considered herself a monster, the Devil, or anything like that. Was Maria the only one who saw the good in her? Who saw Natasha for who she really was, under the scars and abuse and anger? Was there nothing that would have made Natasha feel like she was starting to achieve her redemption?

Deep inside Maria, she knew there was one thing that might convince Natasha otherwise: saving Dominika Drakov. And therefore, that was what they had to do.

  
  


When Maria got off the phone and walked to the interrogation room, Sharon was there, waiting for her.

“Your guy gave us some intel, but it's not that relevant. He says my prisoner is the one in charge. Well, you killed the one in charge, he's the only one left who isn't just a guy with a gun and instructions.”

“Well, at least we know he's the one we should try to get to talk.”

“Problem is, we don't know how.”

“Let's try Natasha, she can do the same thing she did with my guy.”

“I tried. It didn't work. She walked in, he looked terrorized, but still wouldn't budge. She's waiting for us inside.”

“With the prisoner or with another agent?”

Sharon frowned, “No, the other agent stayed with your prisoner. Natasha’s behind the glass so I guess she isn't with my prisoner either.”

“Sharon, you left her alone?”

Sharon’s frown deepened. “Why?”

“She's still out of her handcuffs.”

Maria all but bolted towards the room and Sharon followed her at the same pace. She busted inside only to find Natasha lazily sitting on a desk, swinging her feet.

“How long were you gone?” Maria asked Sharon.

“I don't know, a couple of minutes? Maria, calm down, she's right here.”

“A couple of minutes?! Do you know how long-”

“Maria, she just helped us capture a bunch of Red Room agents, I don't think that, even if she did just jump, that she’ll betray S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Maria shook her head and sighed, eyes fixed on Natasha, searching her expression carefully but not finding anything but confusion there. “It isn't S.H.I.E.L.D. I'm afraid she's messing with,” she murmured under her breath. “I might know another way to make him talk. But first, I'm taking you to Fury so he can put your handcuffs back on.”

Natasha shrugged and nodded, jumping down from the desk. She followed Maria silently. If Maria just looked closer, she might have seen Natasha's uncomfortable, waterlogged boots.

  
  


**[September 20th, 2002 – New York City]**

Natasha looked into the time Maria had checked into the hotel – just a couple of hours before, actually – and then snuck up to her floor and stopped in front of her room. She knocked lightly, waiting for an answer that never came.

She debated what to do. Maria was probably either having a shower or resting, and Natasha did show up unannounced, so she could possibly go back down to the reception or find a public phone to call Maria’s room. Yes, she still brought that with her everywhere. But what harm would it do for her to just let herself in and wait for Maria, lying comfortably on the bed?

She looked both ways down the hallway, then picked the lock. It was surprisingly easy, so much so that she might have been concerned with the hotel security. Natasha remembered their last moments together at the airport, merely a day ago for the Black Widow. She didn't think, as she was slipping into the dark room and closing the door behind her back, that it had been a month for Maria. Natasha had been too busy being grateful with her newfound certainty that Maria couldn't get physically hurt, that she didn't stop to wonder what she was about to find behind that door.

She stood there for a moment, with her back pressed to the door, the click of the door shutting almost seeming too loud compared to the utter silence and stillness of the room she walked in. The sun was setting just then, the room was getting darker, but there was no mistaking the body spread out on the bed.

Maria was laying on her stomach. For a moment, Natasha thought she was sleeping, but that was not the case.

“Seven o'clock, always punctual.”

Natasha's heart sank as she heard Maria's voice. It was strained and tired, like it was coming from a place deep within her, filled with dark and sadness. She realized Maria's head was turned on that side, away from the door, so she could have eyes on both the sunset and the bedside clock. Maria knew the time, she was awake, she heard her knocking and she didn't answer. Maria didn't want her to be there.

“I need some time alone,”

“Okay,” Natasha said quietly.

She nodded to herself, trying to just get her legs to work and carry her out and away, but something deep inside herself anchored her down. She couldn't move, she couldn't just go away. Something in her heart told her that this was that moment that would define their entire relationship that they had tried for so long to elude. Natasha could give up, and it would be easy, it would be the easiest thing in the world to just go back to the present and never look back, to just get Maria to love her again once she was better, once she was no longer hurting. There was exactly one single problem with that: she didn't want to.

She didn't want to leave Maria alone to deal with whatever made her hurt, she didn't want to just let her go through hell herself. Maria gave Natasha the best of herself; her smiling days, her light, young heart and her careless freedom. Now Maria was at her worst and there wasn't one thing, one single reason good enough in the entire world, to make Natasha want to leave her. Natasha didn't want to be with Maria just when she was happy, she wanted to be with Maria, period.

She forced her legs into motion and rounded the bed so she could kneel down on the floor and be face to face with Maria.

“Okay,” she repeated when blue eyes found her own. She gently brushed some hair that had hung over Maria's face and then caressed her cheek. She moved forward and kissed Maria's forehead gently, then sat back on her heels. “I get it. If you're absolutely sure, I'm going to go right now. But if there's anything I can do, and that includes buying you a bottle of vodka and bringing it up here so we can get absolutely trashed, just know that I'm here for you.”

Maria couldn't help but chuckle at that. “What happened to that 'I won't buy you booze, kid' mantra you used to have?”

“Well, you just came back from war, that has to mean something more than a date on a birth certificate. Plus, in Russia the limit is eighteen, so I can always put this off as momentary forgetfulness,” she smiled.

“Did I?” Maria asked her in a whisper, “Come back from it? It feels like a part of me will always be stuck there.”

Natasha felt a lump in her throat and realized this thing, whatever it was, had been one of the things that turned her always-smiling lover into the stoned-face commander she worked with everyday.

“You're still wearing your uniform,” Natasha said instead of answering. Her hand was tracing shooting circles on Maria's back.

“I just got here. I wasn't sure you'd turn up, since I wasn't supposed to come back for months,” Maria told her quietly and Natasha nodded. “You know tours don't last five weeks, Nat. I know you know. Let's not pretend everything is like it used to be a month ago.”

Natasha swallowed. She was starting to get familiar with the feeling settling in the pit of her stomach, that question that came back to haunt her so often was back again, it was ringing in her brain and shattering her heart. _Is this how I lose her?_

“You're right. Things aren't like they used to be. They'll never be that way again. We move forward. It doesn't mean it won't be good again, or great, or better than before. It doesn't mean you lost something or that you won't ever be yourself again.”

Maria frowned slightly, then she sat up and stared hard at Natasha. She knew instantly she just said the wrong thing as she felt Maria pull up and her hands were forced to move away from the brunette by the sudden movements.

“ _Lost_ something?” Maria's harsh voice made Natasha cringe a little. “No, you're right. I didn't lose anything. You know who did?” Maria got up and Natasha did too. “My best friend. He lost two limbs under a fucking wall in Iraq,” her voice edged with rage, her hand gestured to the window like somehow she could point to the Middle East or Asia from New York City. “You know who else _lost_ something? The rest of my team, Natasha. They lost their fucking lives. They died in the middle of a fucking desert, without being able to even say goodbye to their loved ones. And they all had a _ton_ of those, they all had a family and friends and you know who _lost_ something? All those loved ones who will never, _ever_ , see them again.”

Natasha stepped forward and tried to find the words to apologize, but Maria stepped back, still clearly not done talking.

“You know, before you join, they tell you there are casualties. And I mean, it's the fucking army, of course there's gonna be casualties. But they don't tell you they can happen all at once, they don't mention you can lose everyone you know because the sky crumbles upon you one day,” Maria had this anger fuelling her words that dripped into her sentences like water spilling out of a glass too full to contain even one more drop. “But you're right. I didn't _lose_ anything, because I had literally nothing to lose. No loved ones, no family, no house, or mortgage, or kids. They lost something. They lost _everything_.”

“No, I won't let you do this,” Natasha looked at her with something dangerously close to outrage shining in her eyes. “I won't let you use this as an excuse to throw your life away. I know you Maria, and I know-”

“You don't know the first thing about me,” Maria scoffed.

“I know you!” Natasha repeated fiercely. “I know you feel guilty because you couldn't save them, I know you're saying this because you would have exchanged even one of their lives for your own, but that's not how life is.”

“Well, life is fucked up.”

“It _is_. Life is fucked up. It's unfair and twisted. Those people, you friends, lost their lives and their families lost your friends. I'll be damned if I let you use this as an excuse to say you have nothing to live for. This is what was implied, wasn't it?” Natasha asked harshly. “You have nothing to lose because you feel like you have nothing to live for. Well, fuck this, I won't let you say this.”

Maria's eyes were tired and red and the deep black circles around them told Natasha she probably hadn't gotten any sleep in a while. But even through the tiredness Natasha could see the sadness and desperation that had dug deeper within her.

“What about the girl you saved? That kid you brought out of Chicago with the promise of a better life? You don't have to have a ton of friends and loved ones to be worthy of living, Maria, you live for _yourself_. You give that girl the life she dreamed of, you give her the second chance you promised her. Because, sometimes,” Natasha scoffed, “fate is weird like that. Sometimes fate decides that those with a lot to lose have lived and loved enough and those who haven't, they deserve a chance to discover that. Sometimes life is fucked up like that.”

Natasha could see Maria's eyes getting teary and she felt her own tear up too.

“When I met you, Maria, I was one mission away from giving up on life. You saved me. You set me free. You made me realize something so precious – no, not just realize it, you made it stick to my bones so perfectly I can't ever unlearn it. Sometimes it's okay if the reason you survive is to give yourself a second chance.”

When Natasha stepped forward, that time, Maria didn't step back. Natasha moved until she was standing a feet away from Maria.

“At least until you find another reason. Until you realize that your fucked up fate might have something marvellous in store for you.”

“Really? What did it have in store for you? A job in the FBI and casual sex?”

Natasha shook her head. “I won't let you do this, either. I won't let you. You're right, things might have changed, but what I said to you a month ago is still true, Maria. You're still my safe place,” Her voice was firm and without a trace of doubt.

“Why aren't you just turning your back on me? Just leave me. Everybody's so good at that.”

“No,”

“Why? 'Cause I'm what fate gave you?” Maria's voice was harsh.

Natasha took another step and raised her hands to Maria's face. “You aren't what fate gave me, no” she almost chuckled bitterly at the thought, “You _are_ my fate.”

Maria closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to force herself to not believe that. To not believe the only words that could save her. She opened her eyes again and Natasha realized there was something she saw when she closed them that was the reason behind the circles around her eyes.

“Just,” Maria choked back everything and breathed in deeply. She stepped forward and her hands landed on Natasha's hips. She grasped her and brought her closer as she ducked her head and brushed her nose against Natasha's. “Just,” she murmured against her lips, right before she kissed her.

Natasha's hands slipped from Maria's cheeks to her neck as Maria deepened the kiss. She brushed her tongue against Natasha's urgently and bit down on her lip a second later. Natasha kissed her back, but took control over it, slowing them down and bringing the bruising kiss to a stop. Maria knew why she did that, she knew, as Natasha gently caressed her cheek, that she wouldn't allow Maria to bottle up her feelings into a quick intimate encounter. She also knew if she kissed Natasha again she would give in. But it could ruin them. And as she looked at her, actually looked inside the green eyes before her for the first time since Natasha entered the room, she knew she couldn't do that. Natasha was the only thing that made her life feel worth it. She tried to push it away in the midst of her attempt at convincing herself she didn't deserve to be alive since all her team was dead. But Natasha wouldn't let her forget that easily.

As she looked her her, truly looked at her, the faint ghost of a smile played on Natasha's lips, almost as if to say, “finally, there you are”. It was the thing that broke Maria.

She hugged Natasha closer and rested her forehead on her shoulder, closing her eyes again. Natasha gently stroked her hair and held her, waiting.

“I couldn't save them,” it came as a fleeting, whispered confession, unwilling from her lips. “I tried but they were all dead, the only one I could save was Ian and he...” the end of that sentence never came.

Natasha could imagine the rest in a vast number of possibilities. _He lost a leg and an arm. He won't ever be the same again. He wishes I didn't._ They were all probably correct and all disheartening to be thinking about, coming from the one person out of a whole team that Maria was able to save.

“My superior took a look at the footage and told me it was a miracle I got out of there without a scratch. But a miracle would have been if I got out of there in time to take someone else with me. But I couldn't, I wasn't able to save them.”

“It's not your fault. It's just not.”

Natasha held her and brushed away Maria’s tears when, eventually, a couple of those fell. They sat on the bed and she hugged Maria close. At last, exhaustion from the previous days, as well as the emotional sparring match they partook in, wore her out. 

Natasha helped her lay down gently and then laid behind her, hugging her close to her chest and kissing her hair. The peace it brought her to just look at Maria while she was asleep was incomparable to any other kind of solace she had ever experienced. Usually, Maria looked so perfectly serene when she was asleep. Right now, she had a deep frown and her muscles were clenched, but that was to be expected after all, so Natasha kept holding her and laid down her head on the pillow for what seemed only a second.

It was a sound, an odd sound, that woke Maria up. At first, it was the gentle tapping of a couple of drops landing on the city below. But in a few seconds, the speed increased and the wind made the rain tap against her window in a rhythm that to Maria's ears almost sounded like a symphony.

She was suddenly very awake. How long had it been since she heard that noise? She had been back for a weekend five weeks prior, but it was August and not even New York City had rain in August. She sat up, slipping out of Natasha's grasp, starting to look for her boots.

“What are you doing?” Natasha sleepily asked her, brushing the tiredness from her eyes. “Where are you going?”

“Come on, put your boots on,” Maria whispered as she tied her own.

Natasha was confused, but did as she was told. Maria took her hand and led her upstairs, then outside, on the hotel roof. The redhead stayed under the covered platform roof, just outside the door, but Maria stepped ahead.

“Maria, it's pouring rain! There's, like, a storm, if you didn't notice?”

It didn't stop her. She stepped forward and closed her eyes as the drops touched her skin. She breathed in the air, filled with the smell of rain and the static electricity accompanying a storm. She chuckled a little after what seemed like an eternity to Natasha, then turned back to look at her. Natasha was frowning, she looked slightly concerned. But Maria was _smiling_.

“This is awful,” she said in a light chuckle. “The rain is awful, I hate it. It's dirty and heavy and it makes your entire body shiver in the worst way possible.”

Natasha's eyebrows shot up at Maria's admission. “Then why on Earth are you standing in the middle of a roof during a storm?”

“I don't know, I thought maybe I never fully appreciated it, maybe I gave it for granted, but nope. It just sucks. Rain sucks.”

Natasha scoffed but couldn't help the smile that crept to her lips as she stepped forward to and slowly walked to Maria.

“Try living in Russia for a while, see how you like the snow and the freezing to death.”

“Snow is soft, rain is harsh. This is awful,”

“You said that already. Why are we still standing here if you hate it so much?”

“I don't know, it feels so different that there's no mistaking where I am. I'm not there, I'm here. There wasn't this kind of rain where we were.”

“Okay. Want to stay here for a while?”

Maria blinked a couple of times. “Yes.”

“Okay.”

Maria closed her eyes and breathed in, letting the rain soak her clothes and her skin until she was positive she could feel it pour against her very bones and they became heavy with its weight, it was anchoring her down. When a shiver ran up her spine, she opened her eyes slowly, and through the rain and her own tears, she saw Natasha's eyes staring into hers, like she had been observing her, waiting to make sure she was still alright.

It was then that she noticed Natasha's hands on her own arms, squeezing just tightly enough to let her know someone was there with her. Apparently, what people said about not being able to see the tears if someone is shedding them under the rain, was a lie.

Maria saw concern in Natasha’s eyes, but more than that, she saw that spark again. The “there you are, finally back to me, finally the Maria I know,” spark in those beautiful green eyes and suddenly she couldn't believe her own nerve in trying to be closed off to Natasha.

She cradled Natasha's face in her own hands and kissed her softly.

“Thank you.”

“I didn't do anything.”

“You stayed.”

Maria shivered again, Natasha took her hand and led her downstairs, back to their room, then to the bathroom. Another shiver ran down her spine, as Natasha started helping her out of her soaked clothes.

“You need a hot shower. You're freezing.”

“Aren't you?”

“I'm Russian. All that snow and freezing to death trained me.”

“Just to be safe, I think you should take the hot shower as well.”

“I'm- _oh_.”

Maria kissed her again.

  
  


**[April 28th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

After the handcuffs were secured back on Natasha's wrists, Maria asked Fury to give them access to the experimental truth serum Fitz-Simmons had been working on. It was the easiest way to gain at least some information before the Red Room regrouped again and disappeared from the locations known to the agents they captured.

Fury consented to the serum, but entrusted Carter, May and Coulson with the interrogations, then ordered Maria and her team to take the rest of the day off.

“Taking down the Red Room isn't going to be a sprint, it's going to be a marathon. You need to rest, be on standby in case we get intel. Report to my office in the morning and I'll tell you where and when to start. Dismissed.”

Maria was both furious and grateful that the assignment was given to other agents. She complied, giving Fury a nod, a firm “Yes, sir,” and then leaving the room. Natasha followed quickly.

“So, I'm guessing-”

“It's very convenient, that you were sitting on the desk, even though there were two very comfortable chairs,” Maria interrupted her, stopping abruptly and turning to look at her. “I think you know that's the only angle not covered by the camera, since nobody ever uses the desk for anything but water bottles and files,” her voice was a harsh whisper. “And don't think I can't see your boots leaving water behind wherever you walk. I don't know how you're cheating, but I'll find out.”

“Great,” Natasha smiled at her. “Life in prison sounds so appealing, I could finally catch up on all the books I've been wanting to read.”

Maria scoffed and gave her a hard stare, then turned on her heels and left.

Natasha watched her leave, not able to think of anything she could say or do to make things better. She knew she didn't have much time, Maria had her suspicions. She knew, also, she wouldn't be able to stop seeing her. She had to be more careful, the eagerness was making her slip. She had made a couple of mistakes – the truth machine, her jealousy when Maria went to have lunch with Tony Stark, her inability to keep her reassurances to herself that made Maria probably wonder why she was being so open and honest since Natasha technically barely knew her, and, above all else, Sharon and Maria almost just caught her jumping. She had to be more careful, indeed.

But she couldn't stop. If there was going to be no other chance for her to be with Maria, then she didn't see the point in having her freedom. Those handcuffs were starting to feel like a crueler, subtler, kind of prison. A prison nobody else seemed to be concerned about, but a socially acceptable prison nonetheless.

There was only one thing she could do. Figure out why the time of her jumps checked out before Maria did and then use the information to hide her tracks. Because the unthinkable alternative would be giving up the only thing in the entire universe that still made her feel human, alive and free. It would be giving up Maria. And she wasn't ready to do that. She was starting to doubt she ever would.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thank you to my [beta](http://cocoa-n-donuts.tumblr.com/) (love you <3).
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


	18. Damage Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 2007, March 8th-9th : The Black Widow turns herself in and is brought to the Helicarrier  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 16th -19th: Natasha jumps to 2001 and meets Maria on March, June and September  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 23rd: Natasha goes to August 17th, 2002 and meets Maria after her first tour  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 27th: Clint was injured in Budapest. Natasha kisses present-day Maria.  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 28th: Maria's father is kidnapped by the Red Room, Maria and Natasha rescue him  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 28th: The Red Room agents they captured give them intel  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 28th: Natasha visits Maria in September, 2002, after her tour in Iraq

**[April 28th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Natasha logged into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database from one of the computers in the deserted lab. It was the middle of the night and, like any self-respecting secret agent, she took care of the security camera first, ensuring that the rotation on the surveillance monitor would skip that particular camera while she was in there. She only had to erase the video once she was done.

She searched the report Fitz and Simmons did about her and started reading through their evaluations. The math checked out-- not that Natasha ever had a doubt that two geniuses would mess up simple calculus.

They estimated, according to the time she was gone in the present, the approximate time she’d spent in the past. The report had the video records of a camera in Fury's office, with the exact time she had been gone. She picked the most recent event and went through the data. She checked the seconds the jump lasted and noticed that Fitz-Simmons wrote down the correct number. She knew instantly how long that would have been in the past, so she watched the video of her through the street cameras they checked. Somehow they managed to recover the exact moment she jumped in and out, they used the time on the feed to calculate exactly how long she had been there.

Then Natasha noticed something.

It was the mission on 17 April, eleven days ago, and she remembered it quite precisely. She had taken twenty minutes to accomplish the data placement Fury assigned to her. And checking how long she was gone in the present, it was consistent with the twenty minutes the mission lasted. The problem was, she remembered quite well what happened after the mission as well. She had jumped to 2001 and visited the French restaurant with Maria.

The jump had lasted over five hours. Why was it consistent with twenty minutes? It didn't make any sense.

She noticed something else. The estimations were off by a few milliseconds. She did the math again; Fitz-Simmons did it flawlessly, but put the spare milliseconds down to approximation. Natasha knew that there was no approximating time travel. She checked the video again, but the feed was cut to the point when she jumped to the past and jumped back, and it was those twenty minutes she remembered taking to complete the mission.

For a split second, she thought maybe she had imagined it all. Maybe Maria wasn't even real. Maybe she wasn't even able to time travel, she was just a crazy assassin that was incidentally so good at her job in the present that everybody else just decided to humor her. Otherwise, why would she be missing in the present for half a second if she had really been gone for more than five hours – which should have spelled a five second delay in the past?

Then, she frowned at her own lack of sense and started hacking the source of the video, downloading the original version. She was glad Fury never made her file official reports when her missions involved time travel, because that might have been an instant mess when she wrote she had been gone for five and a half hours and instead had just been gone twenty minutes.

Once she retrieved the video, she let it play entirely, instead of just looking at her arriving and departing times. But it hadn't been tampered with. It was just as Fitz-Simmons had put it in the file. And, when she thought about it, why would they lie to protect her anyway? It was logic that they wrote down exactly what they saw. So she watched it again, then again, then a fourth time. But she didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

She put it on again for the fifth time, but let it play at its normal speed instead of watching it at an accelerated speed. The alley was empty for almost the whole time, that was why she chose to jump into and out of it in the first place, after all: it was an isolated, quiet place.

She sighed and thought back at what Maria said to her when they were leaving Fury's office. She sat back in her chair and sighed again. It was ridiculous that Maria was so hell-bent on making sure she was arrested. Did Natasha think Maria should lie on her behalf, if she happened to bump into the truth? No, of course not. But for Maria to be investigating her personally, now _that_ was a whole other level of commitment. Maybe it was the lies  that Maria couldn't stand. She always seemed to react badly when Natasha lied to her. It didn't matter if it was with the truth machine, through a sarcastic remark, or a blunt lie, Natasha lying just sat with Maria wrong.

A S.H.I.E.L.D. agent should be used to being lied to, surely. Maybe it was the fact that the lies came from someone Maria had trusted and who had betrayed her before, that they’d made her so angry and hurt her so much. She resolved never to lie to Maria unless it was absolutely necessary.

When she finally focused back on the screen, she was walking into the alley and checking both ways to see if someone could see her, then disappeared into thin air. Natasha sighed and stretched, cracking her neck and her fingers before sitting up in her chair again, ready to stop the feed.

She had never, ever, been so glad before for her sore back.

When she sat up, it was a moment too late. There was something on the screen. She had seen something, the passing flash of a figure appearing and disappearing in a millisecond, but something had distinctly passed on the screen. She slowed the video down best as she could, and watched it frame by frame until she found it. Five seconds after she allegedly jumped back to the present, there she was again, almost as if she was only passing by, only there for the fraction of a second, and yet, indeed, there she was.

_Wait. Five seconds after the jump?_

She went back, checked again, counted again. And it hit her.

Natasha spent approximately five hours in 2001 and it matched the five seconds gap, but that would mean, she didn't perform the jumps in parallel as she thought she was doing. She was jumping again, from _inside_ the first jump. She calculated what five more seconds meant in the present and there was no doubt the approximation Fitz-Simmons made could be explained by that gap.

That also meant something else entirely. If she could jump in vertical from inside a previous jump, she could virtually be gone for days, weeks, even _months_ at a time, with just a little delay in the present, short enough that anybody would have put it down to an approximation mistake again, just as Fitz-Simmons did.

She spent an hour checking out her other missions and it was always the same thing. There would be a frame of her passing by that point in space and time before returning to the present a few seconds later than what was written in all of Fitz-Simmons' annotations.

The implications were endless. It was a goldmine. She could have done anything, absolutely anything in space and time because there was no limit to what she could do with just a few seconds away from the present. Yet, the only thought she couldn't seem to get rid of, was that it meant more time with Maria.

  
  


Coulson and May got to work the next day and started gathering information from the Red Room soldiers, but it was a slow process. Natasha tried not to get impatient: she visited Clint, worked out, had breakfast… But by ten in the morning she was starting to run out of ideas on how to spend the time until they had a new mission. She decided that, if Fury wasn't going to give her a mission, she was going to give herself one.

She sneaked to Maria's room and even though it was the first time she did so – at least on the Helicarrier – at that point it almost felt familiar. Except for the part where, apparently, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security system alerted the room’s owner if someone tried to pick the lock. Smart, maybe a little unfair, but nonetheless smart.

The door swung open while Natasha was still trying to understand if she had a chance at picking it. She stepped back, casually leaning on the wall next to the door as if she wasn't just about to attempt breaking and entering.

“What are you doing?” Maria asked her, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied the Russian.

“I wanted to talk to you, so I came by.”

“Maybe try knocking next time? You know, like a normal person would do?”

Natasha bit her cheek to hide her smirk and shrugged, walking past Maria and into the room without bothering to look back.

“Do you wanna come in?” Maria snarked from the empty hallway, then closed the door and turned around. Her arms were crossed and she leaned against the door as Natasha walked around the room, looking at the very few things Maria kept in plain view. “Did you want something in particular or are you just here to snoop around a little?”

“I can multitask,” Natasha smirked.

Maria rolled her eyes and sighed, not bothering to step away from the door. Natasha moved around like she owned the room, in the way she always used to do, Maria felt the familiarity of the woman in front of her wash over herself like fresh water. Her mind tried to quell her heart, but her heart was already singing “look at her, she's herself, she's actually here, it wasn't all pretend,” yet she refused to let it reach her ears. She tamed her own hope and hid her affection behind annoyance.

“What do you want, Romanoff?”

Natasha stopped looking around the gaunt room and turned to Maria, walking to her slowly but purposefully. Maria didn't move, confident that Natasha would come to an halt when she was close enough to have a face to face conversation. She should have known better. Natasha walked towards her until their bodies were almost touching and Maria was forced to disentangle her arms just to create more room between the two of them. When Maria was convinced that Natasha was going to kiss her, the redhead scooted down and brought up the hem of Maria's uniform's pants, retrieving her tactic knife before rising up again.

“If you think you can kill me with that knife, you didn't understand how my power works,” Maria told her in a whisper, relaxing slightly.

Natasha noticed how Maria tensed up when she thought Natasha was going to kiss her, but relaxed now that she was holding a knife in her hand. She didn't know if she should be glad Maria trusted Natasha with her life, or disappointed because Maria clearly didn't trust her with her heart, at least not anymore.

“I understand your power better than you do, it seems,” it was all she said before pressing the blade to her own left hand and cutting through it.

The both of them looked down and saw the blood slowly starting to pour from Natasha's palm, the red string growing steadily. It took Maria only a second to bolt into action.

“Are you completely crazy?!” She took the knife from Natasha's hand and dragged her by the elbow towards the bathroom. “First of all, there are cameras in the room, you might get me arrested,” she whispered once the door was closed.

“Nobody will notice. Why would they be checking on you?”

“Because you're here,” Maria pointed out, taking a towel and wrapping it around Natasha's hand. Or at least, she tried, but Natasha pushed it away.

“You promised me you'd help with Dominika. And I said I'd teach you how. So, this is me teaching you,” she pushed her bleeding hand towards Maria. “Heal me.”

There was a moment when time stopped and Maria was almost certain Natasha had somehow transported them into a timeless void, because Maria could feel one single heartbeat stretch for the longest moment, she could feel her own breath caught in her lungs. Because that was not the first time Natasha whispered those words to her. She did the same once, many years before, it sounded so similar, yet it was so different. She remember that night Natasha told her “I sometimes feel broken, but you always make me feel human again. You mend me, every single time. Heal me.” It was a whispered confession and it was said in such an important moment, both heartbreaking and heartwarming to them. _Heal me_ , Natasha told her. And Maria had tried.

A second later, the spell was broken and she reached for Natasha's hand, took her wrists and put her other hand above the cut, not touching it, just hovering over it.

“How?” Maria almost demanded instructions while staring down at the cut. “How can I do this?”

“How do you heal yourself?”

“I don't. My body heals itself.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow and gave Maria a half shrug. “Should be easy then.”

Maria sighed, realizing Natasha would be anything but helpful. She touched the unbroken skin just beside the cut, then traced the hem of it slowly, so very slowly, and felt with her index fingertip the margins of the cut. It was a tiny wound, yet she felt both margins clearly, as if every cell of her hand suddenly was a sensory receptor, able to feel the sharp margins that shouldn't have been able to be felt. She traced it once, then did it again. As her finger ran against it the second time, the hems were pulled together and the wound was sealed.

Maria frowned as she watched the palm of Natasha's hand being completely unscratched. Natasha turned, washed her bloody hand on the sink, then took the towel Maria wanted to wrap around her hand before to dry them clean. Then, she picked up the knife again.

“Are you kidding me?”

“You have to learn to be faster and better. She had a bullet wound and was on the brink of death when I left her to kill Bezukhov. Knowing how to seal a cut, won't cut it.”

“Very funny,” Maria scoffed.

Natasha ignored her and cut her own palm again, deeper. Maria reacted quickly, grasping her hand and healing the cut with her first touch, without the need to even trace the wound, but just holding Natasha's hand in hers.

“Why am I picking up on this so quickly?”

“This is your fate, Maria. You're a healer. This power was born so you could heal the wounded. Being able to heal yourself is nothing more than a side effect. An evolutionary advantage.”

Maria only had the time to frown before Natasha put her hand on the counter and stabbed it neatly, the knife stuck to the counter.

“Holy shit, you're completely insane!” Maria stared at it wide eyed for a fraction of second, then took the handle in one hand, put the other around Natasha's wrist, then pulled the knife off, while healing the cut. When Natasha reached for the knife again, Maria held it out of her reach, shaking her head. “No, stop this. Stop hurting yourself in front of me. I'll find another way to learn, I don't want you to teach me anymore,” she told her harshly.

“Come on, I was sure you would heal me.” She opened and closed her hand a couple times. Maria completely healed the bones she made sure to hit, the muscles, the nerves. It was as if her hand wasn't hit at all. “Very good.”

“Well, what if I'm not capable the next time? What if I'm not able to heal a bullet wound, how exactly were you going to test that, by shooting yourself?!”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “I'm only slightly insane, I wouldn't shoot myself. Plus, we need to keep it off the record, as you mentioned, so you don't get arrested. That means you can't use this power anywhere with cameras. But we'll find a way to make sure you can heal a bullet wound. Consider this the demonstration that you can use your power like this, that was my main point.”

“Why?”

“I was bored.”

“Hacking into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database last night wasn't fun enough for you?”

Natasha tried to keep the surprise off her face. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Sure you don't. I'll prove it was you. I'll prove you jumped and I'll prove you've been using Fury's mission to mess around,” Maria told her in an even yet almost challenging tone.

“Why are you so hellbent on sending me to prison for the rest of my life?” Natasha scoffed at her and slightly shook her head.

“ _Because if you're not lying it means what we had was real and I'm not sure I can cope with losing you again if it was,_ ” was Maria's first thought. But she could never utter those words. So she settled on a half truth.

“Unlike you, I'm loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“I am, too. S.H.I.E.L.D. saved me. But it has been keeping me in a prison ever since. It may be a prison I can walk around into, but I'm still caged.”

“You know it's just until we're sure.”

“No, it's not. Because if it was, these would be off by now.”

Maria's cell started ringing from the other room and she stuck the knife back in the ankle holster, then walked out of the bathroom. Natasha followed her after a few deep breaths to regain her composure.

“It was Coulson,” Maria told her. “They have something.”

  
  


They were able to get some information out of him, it wasn't a lot but it was a start. He managed to avoid most questions, but little by little the serum forced him to give something away. It wasn't much and they couldn't use an higher dosage since it was still experimental, but they managed to get an address out of him: the place where his mission was planned and issued.

“Romanoff, you have to go there, back to a week ago when they were planning the mission, and follow the handler assigned to it. Take Hill with you,” Fury ordered as soon as Coulson was done debriefing them.

“Sir, all we have is an address in Russia,” May pointed out, “there could be anything or anyone there, just waiting for Agent Romanoff to show up. And you want to assign only two agents to this mission?”

“There are other soldiers to interrogate, Agent May, you and Coulson need to get to that. This is an order.”

May sighed, but nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Get ready, you leave as soon as possible,” Fury addressed Natasha and Maria.

They both nodded immediately, without a single word.

  
  


**[April 21th, 2007 – Moscow, Russia]**

They jumped to the address Fury gave them, so they could pick up their arrival time on a street camera. They had to jump a few days in the past, so they would be sure to catch the man issuing the orders to the team they captured. After making their way to the address the man had revealed, they started surveillance. The team left the house shortly after they got there, but nobody else came out for a long time. Eventually, they agreed that if surveillance was going to take that long, they would need a better cover. They broke into the building on the other side of the street and found an empty apartment they could easily break in and started to watch the street from inside, so nobody would be suspicious of two strangers standing around in the street.

They only talked when necessary, Natasha's stunt with the knife was still clearly upsetting Maria, but Natasha preferred silence on missions anyway.

The hours ticked by without any significant occurrences, it began to stress them out a little. What if they missed the man they were supposed to be tracking?

But when night fell, a light flickered to life in the house.

“He's still inside,” Natasha stated.

Maria sighed. “I'm going to buy us dinner, I'm starving. Be right back.”

Natasha nodded and watched her go, then her eyes darted back to the lit window and she forced herself not to count the seconds Maria had been out of her sight. When she came back with so much food to feed a platoon, they ate in silence. The only thing Natasha said was a bland “thank you” when Maria handed her the food. After dinner, Maria got up and started pacing the apartment; Natasha, who hadn't taken her eyes off their target for more than a few seconds at a time, watched her get progressively more restless with each step she took.

“Why don't we take turns?” Natasha proposed when, after a few minutes, the pacing started to annoy her.

“I'm not tired,” Maria answered like that settled it.

“Good, you can take the first shift, then,” Natasha said, getting up from the chair she positioned to be able to keep an eye both on the building and the street beneath. “I'll take a nap on the couch, wake me when you get sleepy.”

Maria just stood there for a second, watching her walk to the couch silently. When Natasha sat down, she walked to the chair and sat there, starting to look out the window just as Natasha was doing a few moments before.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Natasha take off her boots and lay down on the couch, on one side, closing her eyes immediately. A second later her breathing went steady.

  
  


_Maria had been staring at the window for what felt like hours – possibly days – and yet, nothing happened. Everything stood remarkably still, she didn't see any lights, any pedestrians, anything that moved. It was like she was staring at a picture, one where morning never seemed to come._

_Then, she felt cold fingertips tracing the back of her neck. A shiver ran down her spine as she turn slightly to look at the figure standing up behind her._

“ _I thought you were sleeping.”_

“ _You seemed tense. And you feel tense.”_

_Natasha's hands started kneading the muscles of her upper back, gently working the knots she found along the way. Maria's eyes darted back to the street. She knew she shouldn't lose focus on the house, in case someone exited the building. But as Natasha's touch became gentler and her fingers traveled higher on the back of her neck, her eyes started to drift closed. It was hard to keep focus and a part of her wanted to ask Natasha to step back, it was weird that she was touching her like that, like they weren't constantly on the verge of a fight. But she couldn't seem to shake off the feeling that Natasha's fingers were what kept her anchored to reality. Then, slowly, Natasha's right hand traced a pattern from the back of her neck forward, forward, until her palm was pressed against Maria's throat. Fingers dug deeper into the skin of her neck as the other hand slid down, between her shoulder-blades._

_Maria sat there, unable to react, unable to shrug off of her the woman who was currently in a position where she could easily choke Maria, probably to death if she wished so. Something paralyzed her. Suddenly, it was like she could see herself from behind. But she wasn't sitting anymore. She was standing up. Natasha was in front of her, one hand still on her back and the other still on her throat. She moved forward until her lips were ghosting against Maria's ear. She could see herself from afar, but at the same time she still felt Natasha's hand pressing on her larynx, making it hard for her to breathe. Yet, she didn't flinch, she didn't move away, she stood there out of utter trust. It didn't make sense but she did it anyway, she watched herself stand completely helpless in those hands she used to gently kiss._

_She closed her eyes but could still see Natasha somehow, could feel her touch, could sense the lips pressed against her ear as they parted._

“ _This thing in your heart, this is gonna be the death of you.”_

_Maria knew that already. But her words ran down her spine like cold water and echoed in her brain endlessly. It was going to shatter her to pieces, her love for Natasha. She had always known that. But she would have let it destroy her, before giving it up. Before giving up on Natasha. It didn't matter how hard she tried not to care for her, not to love her again, the truth was that the love never left her, she carried it with her for years, silently, like an untold poem written on her heart, waiting to be sung again. If the time came when her love for Natasha would kill her, she already made her peace with that. What she couldn't fathom was the thought of Natasha never loving her back the way she once thought Natasha did._

_She could almost hear a cold, dark laugh inside her head, making fun of her, of her silliness. But she was sure Natasha wasn't laughing, because she was inhaling, ready to say something else._

“ _And I'm going to enjoy every second of it.”_

Maria bolted up from the couch, coming to a sitting position and struggling to bring her breathing back to normal. She felt like something was constricting her chest. The dream had been so vivid, so real, so tangible, that the feeling of Natasha's hand on her throat and lips on her heart still lingered even after she woke up.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asked from the chair, looking away from the street to briefly check on her, then turning back.

“Just a nightmare,” Maria whispered, her mouth feeling as dry as the desert. “How long did you let me sleep?” She noticed the sun was already up and shining as she started to make sense of her surroundings.

“You looked like you could use some rest and I wasn't tired. There's been some movement, I think we should go down on the street, in case someone leaves the house.”

Maria swallowed a couple of times, in a vain attempt to shake the lingering feeling away. She nodded silently and got up, reaching for her jacket.

“Can you give me a minute to wake up properly?”

“Sure. Just keep an eye on the street so I can go to the bathroom before we head out?”

Maria nodded and took the place in the chair by the window that Natasha just vacated. The redhead silently made her walk to the bathroom, trying not to seem too eager to disappear from Maria's view, and as soon as she was safely behind the locked door, she jumped.

**[September 21st, 2002 – New York City]**

Natasha didn't even bother to knock before picking the lock. She let herself in and put the paper bag in her hands on the bed, before taking off her leather jacket. She changed into the same clothes she wore when she jumped to Maria the day before, so she wouldn't get suspicious. She heard noises in the bathroom and a second later the door opened and Maria stepped out. She looked surprised to see Natasha casually sitting on the bed, sipping coffee.

“Hey. Thought you would disappear for three months or so.”

“You're not leaving New York, are you?” Natasha asked. Maria shook her head at the question. “Then why should I?”

“Work?”

“It's Saturday.”

“Good point. Are you just going to stand there drinking coffee in front of my sleepy face or are you going to offer me some?”

Natasha smirked and took a coffee from the paper bag. “This is your coffee,” she stated, then dug again and emerged after grasping a bagel, “and this is your breakfast.”

“You're an angel,” Maria moaned into the first sip of her coffee.

Natasha wished, more than anything else she had ever wanted before, that she could be only the part of herself that Maria saw.

“I kinda had plans, for today,” Maria admitted quietly, sitting down beside her on the bed and took a bite of the bagel.

“What's his name?” Natasha asked nonchalantly.

“It's not like that.”

“My bad. What's her name?”

“Natasha.”

She smiled with fake innocence, “What?”

“I need an apartment. I'm staying in New York for a while, I've been given a few months to recover and I don't really feel like going back to Chicago. And this room is getting smaller each time.”

“Sounds reasonable and practical. Should we look for some apartments to visit then?”

Maria raised an eyebrow. “You wanna come? It's gonna be boring. But I'd like the company,” she smirked a little and got closer to Natasha, kissing her on the cheek, then on the neck. Natasha smiled and turned her head, capturing Maria's lips in a soft kiss, feeling the brunette smiling too when their lips connected. “I'd _love_ the company, even.”

“Are you going to buy me food?”

“All the food you want.”

“Deal. You've made a crucial mistake. I'm going to bankrupt you.”

Maria chuckled and kissed Natasha again, and for a moment there was no war, no army, no S.H.I.E.L.D., no Red Room. Just them in their hotel room, being carefree and happy.

Maybe, just maybe, Natasha thought, they would make it through.

  
  


They sat in a café, circling ads and calling the few that Maria thought were acceptable, but only one of the few she called was able to show her the apartment on the same day; the others offered to make appointments for the following days. Natasha glanced at Maria every once in awhile and she would always look distant, her eyes staring at ghosts instead of her coffee.

“I think this is another number you might want to call for an appointment,” Natasha slid a piece of paper to her.

Maria glanced at the business card, then scoffed and laughed ironically. She slid the card back across the table and looked away.

“I'm not seeing a shrink.”

“Maria, this is the best-” she started to argue, but the brunette wouldn't let her finish.

“No, Natasha. I'm okay. I'm not doing that because I don't need to, that's final.”

Natasha couldn't believe she was having this argument with Maria “everybody needs a medical physical and mental check up after every mission” Hill, yet the tone in her voice left no room for a reply. Natasha was left with no option but to nod.

“Let's go see that one house, then.”

Maria nodded without even looking in her direction and got up, leaving some cash on the table and heading out. Natasha rolled her eyes, but followed her outside. They started walking in silence, side by side, Maria looked lost in thought and judging by her slight frown, they weren't pleasant thoughts.

Natasha took her hand gently and nudged her a little with her elbow. “So, I have something very important to ask you and you have to promise you will answer this honestly.”

Maria slightly narrowed her eyes at her, but nodded.

“What's your favourite ice cream flavour?”

A slow smile appeared on Maria's lips as she shook her head. “What kind of question is that, Natasha? _Obviously_ cookie dough, if someone says otherwise they have zero taste.”

Natasha pretended to think very hard about it. “I don't know. I think vanilla is pretty nice.”

“ _Vanilla_? Are you _trying_ to make me drag you into a store and make you try every ice cream flavour in the world just to prove to you that _every single one_ is better than plain, simple _vanilla_?”

Natasha smirked, but shrugged. “We could do that.”

“Oh my God, I can't believe I just took that bait, I should have guessed.”

Natasha pulled on her hand and dragged her to the first store she saw, so they could get their ice creams to eat on the way to the apartment.

Once they got there, cones long gone and a playful smile solidly planted on Maria's face, Natasha felt quite happy with herself. At least the frown was gone, even if just temporarily.

The apartment was small, the landlord was nice, but there was no furniture and it clearly needed some work, which Maria had no intent on paying. It was a hard pass.

“Better luck tomorrow,” Maria shrugged while they exited the building.

Natasha nodded and smiled. She tried to keep the conversation light but active on their walk back to the hotel.

“I'm starving, want to get some lunch?”

“You go ahead and do that, Maria, I need to run some errands. I'll be back as soon as I can okay? You won't even notice I'm gone.”

Maria smiled and nodded. “Work?”

“Yeah, I was supposed to check in a while ago,” Natasha lied. “Get some rest, okay?”

“I will,” Maria bowed her head and kissed her gently on the lips. “Be safe.”

Natasha smiled and watched her get into the hotel, waved her goodbye, then walked to the nearest small alley. Her time was very limited, but she wanted to make sure Maria made it through the first few days without too much pain, so she jumped a few hours ahead and reappeared in that same alley. It was night, around ten thirty. She walked to the hotel entrance and made her way up to Maria's room quietly. She knocked, but after a few seconds she picked the lock and got in. The shower was running in the bathroom, that had to be why Maria didn't open. She took off her jacket and boots, then headed for the bathroom door, knocking on that, too.

“Maria?” She called when no answer was offered. She knocked again. “Maria, it's me.”

No reply came but Natasha could hear a muffled sound come from inside. She felt something in the pit of her stomach, telling her something was very, very wrong. She decided she just had to open the door, make sure everything was alright, then she could just wait outside. But the moment she opened the door, she realized Maria was very much not alright.

She was sitting in the shower, her head between her knees, murmuring something Natasha couldn't make out because of the noise the water was making. Maria was shivering slightly and as soon as she opened the door she could understand why: the water was freezing. She turned it so it would be warmer and then knelt down beside Maria.

“I'm here, you're okay. I'm right here, I've got you, Masha. You're okay,” she touched her skin and it was as cold as the water running on her. “You're freezing. Come on, we have to warm you up, come on, lean on me.”

Natasha helped her up and held her tightly under the warm water, waiting until the shivers subsided. She turned off the water, then helped Maria out, after discarding her own soaked clothes. When she turned around, Maria was sitting on the toilet, her head on her hands, looking at the floor and trying to even her breathing.

“What was that, Maria?” Natasha knelt in front of her and took her hands gently.

Maria's face turned up, towards her, slowly. But it took longer for her eyes to refocus on the present, it was a while before Maria actually saw Natasha standing there, holding her hands, searching her eyes. Maria blinked once, twice, then the fog was gone.

“I felt like I was suffocating. Like I was inhaling hot sand. I needed to cool down, my heart was racing and I couldn't breathe.”

“So you sat in the shower with ice water running?” Natasha did nothing to hide the concern in her voice. “Maria, this isn't-”

“I'm okay.”

“No, you're not okay, Maria. Just because you have no wounds doesn't mean you didn't go through what you did, too. Something like that doesn't just disappear, take it from me. It haunts you until you find a way to deal with it.”

Maria didn't say anything for a long moment. “How did you deal with it?” She asked quietly.

“I didn't. And it almost killed me.”

“What saved you?”

Natasha hesitated. But then decided there was no other path but the truth. “An eighteen year old girl standing in the snow, telling me to meet her again three months later. That was the one thing that made me hang on another day. It turned out, one day at a time is sometimes the only way through. Look, Maria, I went through that alone and it was awful and it almost killed me and I won't let you go through this alone, I told you yesterday, I won't let you do this.

“You also said, sometimes it's okay if the reason you survive is to give yourself a second chance. I just have to survive another day.”

“Not like this, Masha.”

“You called me that, before. Is it short for Maria?”

“The Russian version, yeah,” Natasha nodded. “Listen to me, okay? Surviving to give yourself another chance doesn't mean you push through the pain mindlessly until you're better, it means you try to get better so you can get that chance.”

Maria lowered her gaze her shook her head briefly. “My head is killing me. I need some sleep.”

Natasha reluctantly let her get up and watched her get out of the bathroom and into the bed. She looked at her soaking clothes on the floor and realized she couldn't leave until they were dried, so she sighed and followed Maria into the bed. They laid in silence for a few moments.

“I feel like I know so little about you, and yet I can't imagine who would I be without you,” Maria whispered quietly, in the dark.

“I feel like I know very little about myself, too,” Natasha admitted the thing she had been afraid of uttering. “But I'm getting to know me while getting to know you. I never been myself as much as I am when it's just us.”

Maria turned to her, laying on her side. “Will you come visit more frequently once I get an apartment?”

“Whenever I can. I have to leave in the morning but as soon as I'm back in town I'll call you and you can give me your new address.”

“You still have my number?”

“I always bring it with me, Masha.”

“What if I'm never that eighteen years old kid again? What if this sticks with me and I'm never that light-hearted again?”

“You can't be. We all grow, we change, but it doesn't mean it's for the worst. We're still a work in progress, most people are.”

Maria nodded, her eyelids growing heavier. “It means there's still time to be better.”

“Yes,” Natasha frowned a little. It meant there was still time to change, perhaps even for her, who had always considered herself doomed to make mistake after mistake, just as the legend surrounding her had narrated. But she just said it herself. She was still a work in progress, she still had time to become the person she wanted to be. “I guess it does.”

The exhaustion of a sleepless night spent surveying a street dawned on her, making her fall asleep not long after Maria.

She woke up a few hours later, the sun was starting to rise. She got up and got dressed, then wrote a note to Maria.

_Didn't want to wake you, had to go check in for the mission. Please take care of yourself. -Nat._

She left the psychiatrist’s business card she’d got for Maria under the note and then quietly left the room. How did everything get so messy?

**[April 21th, 2007 – Moscow, Russia]**

When she got out of the bathroom, Maria was holstering her gun.

“Good, you're done. We have to go, someone just left the house.”

Natasha sighed, then nodded. No rest for the wicked, indeed.

  
  



	19. A Love to Kill For, Die For, Live For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 2007, March 8th-9th : The Black Widow turns herself in and is brought to the Helicarrier  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2007, April 16th -19th: Natasha jumps to 2001 and meets Maria on March, June and September  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2007, April 23rd: Natasha goes to August 17th, 2002 and meets Maria after her first tour  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2007, April 28th: Natasha visits Maria in September, 2002, after her tour in Iraq  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2007, April 28th: Natasha understands how she can jump from inside another jump; she and Maria are assigned to a surveillance mission in Moscow taking place on April 21st

  


**[April 21th, 2007 – Moscow, Russia]**

They followed a man for three blocks, before Maria realized something was wrong. Natasha's shoulders were a little tense and she was slightly stiffer than usual.

“You know him,” she stated, certain of her assessment.

“I do,” Natasha confirmed. “Vlad Petrovitch. He was a Red Room handler. He liked his girls a little too much,” she said in a voice so cold and yet so enraged that it sent a shiver down Maria's spine.

Maria clenched her jaw, but didn't reply. They walked silently for a few more minutes, then the man entered a shop and they stopped half a block away from him.

Natasha leaned her left shoulder on the wall behind them, turning to look at Maria.

“You need to turn towards me and cover me with your height. This way I can see if he comes out but if he glances our way when he does he won't see me.”

“He would need a super vision to recognize you.”

“Don't need to. Just needs to see my hair, he just sent a team looking for me, he knows that if something goes wrong I'd be back in this exact moment in time to get to him. And my hair is-”

“-pretty distinctive. Fair point,” Maria whispered, positioning her body so she could shield Natasha. “Is this okay? Are you doing okay?”

Natasha smirked a little, looking up at her. “Yeah, it's a nice view.”

“A familiar city or Russia in general?”

“I meant your eyes but being back somewhere familiar is nice, too.”

Maria rolled her eyes, but a small smile appeared on her face before she was able to stop it. She regained her composure quickly and scoffed at Natasha.

“He's getting out,” Natasha said, her eyes not leaving Maria's face. “Shit, he's walking back, he's coming our way.”

Maria quickly scanned their surroundings without moving her head, trying to see if there was an alley or something similar they could sneak into. It was not their lucky day.

“There's no-”

Natasha grabbed the collar of her jacket and pulled her in very swiftly, kissing her on the lips and then tangling a hand in her hair to bring her down.

Maria acted on instinct, kissing her back and lowering her head. It took her a second to realize what Natasha was trying to do and, as soon as she got it, she brought her hand to Natasha's hair, trying to cover at least a part of them from the man's line of sight.

Natasha, not one to waste an occasion like that one, gently brushed her lips against Maria's, and smirked when she felt Maria responding to the kiss. After a moment, it was over. She looked for Petrovitch and saw him on the sidewalk, he passed them by without speeding up and he didn't seem nervous at all.

“Come on, or we'll lose him,” Maria whispered, distancing herself from Natasha and starting to walk in the same direction as their target.

They followed him on his way back, but he didn't head home. He wasn't trying to make the walk as quick as possible as he was before, he seemed calm, almost too calm, like he was waiting for someone to catch up with him. Then, he stepped into a small alley and entered what seemed to be a very old building.

“What is this?”

“An abandoned warehouse,” Natasha told Maria, as they stopped just around the corner.

“I think he noticed us.”

“Of course he did. I told you he'd be looking for me. And he was walking slower than before,” she pointed out.

“Do you think he was waiting for us?” Maria asked.

Natasha just nodded and took her gun out, flicking the safety off. “Let's go in and find out if I'm right.”

Maria took out her gun as well and nodded, following Natasha to the back door they were about to sneak into. “I'm going first, so if he's armed and shoots, no harm done.”

“I'm going to kill him if he shoots you.”

“I know, we can't risk him knowing my secret and divulging it to S.H.I.E.L.D. or another organization” Maria considered, as she approached the door.

“Yes,” Natasha said. “Let's go with that motive.”

Maria shot her a reprimanding look, then counted down from three before kicking the door open and moving in. She looked around, the warehouse was big, but it looked empty. There were large columns around the room, obviously only there for decoration since they didn't look stable enough to be holding structures of any kind, and in the back there were three aligned piles of boxes. Petrovich could be hiding behind any of those. Maria went in and took place behind one of the columns, then signaled Natasha to do the same.

Natasha went in, closing the door behind her to avoid alerting any pedestrians in case they got into a gunfight. They waited, silently, in their hiding spots, but nothing happened.

Maria turned to Natasha, her eyes trying to convey certainty and calmness. Natasha wasn't having it. She shook her head slightly, but Maria mouthed a decisive “Stay there, that's an order,” and then rounded the column, going into the open.

She walked ahead and sought cover behind another column, trying to draw his attention to herself and hoping to spot him.

“We know you brought us here. We know this is a trap. You and your men can surrender peacefully and we won't bring in backup,” Maria bluffed.

“You have no backup,” a voice came from behind the boxes. “And I was just waiting for mine,” he said, just as another door on the opposite side of the warehouse opened.

Maria could see at least a dozen of men making their way in, each of them with a rifle. “Shit,” she murmured. She and Natasha only had service guns. It was only supposed to be surveillance.

“But you can surrender peacefully and we can kill you quickly,” he countered Maria's former offer with his own.

“We're gonna have to pass on that,” Maria sighed, her weapon ready. She saw Natasha looking at her and mouthed again “stay there” knowing it was a futile attempt, but trying anyway.

“Shoot,” Petrovich gave the order.

Maria heard the bullets making contact with the column she was hiding behind, starting to quickly cut through the cheap material. It wouldn't hold much longer. She peeked out of her hiding spot, shot two times and rolled over to the next column. Two out of two, but there were ten left. She caught her breath as the bullet wound in her leg healed itself and then took two other shots, remaining behind the same column. It was starting to give out as well, but at least some agents had been taken out.

She took two other shots. But as she was sliding to another hiding spot, one of the bullets hit her hand, knocking her gun right off her hand. She hissed in pain, as she slid to the floor, her back on the column. She recovered a knife from her boot with her left hand while her right one was healing and peeked around just long enough to throw it between the eyes of one of the men shooting at her.

Seven out of twelve and she had only been hit in two different places. It wasn't so bad, she was already healed. The problem was, she didn't have her gun anymore.

“There's five more,” she said out loud.

“Well, if you don't count the other dozen men waiting outside, guarding the building,” Petrovich corrected her. “Not bad for a woman, you took down seven, but there are eighteen of us left.”

“No, there're five left, six counting you,” Natasha's voice rose from behind her column. “The men outside are taken care of. Did you think I would wait around while she did all the work?”

Maria could hear the smirk in her voice even if she couldn't see it and it pissed her off endlessly, but she was glad Natasha took them out. She jumped behind every single one of them, without changing time but only shifting her position in space, taking them out one by one quickly and effectively.

“Well, if it isn't the Devil's Keeper. Stop shooting, stop shooting. She's too valuable.”

The bullet shower ceased immediately. Maria got back up, but didn't move out of her covert spot, waiting for him to give another order.

“I'll make you a deal. We will let your associate go, if you come with us willingly,” he stated.

“And if I don't?”

“Well, she already has a couple of bullets in her, we won't mind putting in a couple more.”

Maria knew she had to do something quick. “I'm coming out, don't shoot,” she stated out loud, pretending to stumble and fall on her knees, her arms clutching her abdomen like she was bleeding out. She raised her left, bloodied hand, while the right one swiftly moved to the side of her knee and clutched the gun she dropped before.

“At least you know when to surrender,” he said. Then motioned with his head to one of the men. “Kill her.”

Maria chuckled a little. “I didn't say I was surrendering. Men. Always underestimating a woman, letting me go near a loaded gun just because you shot me a couple of times.”

When she raised to her feet, the smirk on her face and the lack of bullet wounds in her body was enough to paralyze the armed men in front of her just long enough for her to shoot two of them. When the other two shot back, she quickly finished the job, not minding the new wounds on her own body in the slightest.

She dropped her gun's magazine and put in a loaded one, as Natasha stepped out of her hiding spot.

“Can I step in now, Commander?”

Maria gestured with her hand towards the man in front of them, the only one left standing. He raised his own gun as soon as he recovered from the shock, but Natasha was faster. Two bullets hit his abdomen and one hit his knee, making him fall down on the floor, scattering around the empty boxes he was hiding behind.

Natasha walked to him, kicking his gun away, then pressed her foot to the wound in his knee to prevent him from trying to get up. In the meantime, Maria checked to see if any of the other agents was still alive. They weren't.

She approached Natasha and looked down at the man whimpering on the floor.

“You won't win this war,” he muttered, “and live to tell the tale.”

“Where are the other facilities?” Natasha asked, ignoring his threatens.

“Why should I tell you? You'll kill me anyway.”

Natasha shifted her eyes to Maria, then back to him. “Heal him.”

“ _Excuse me_?”

“You know Fitz-Simmons tracks jumps, you've seen the math, there's only a thirty seconds approximation gap. If you have to save Dominika that fast, you have to practice. And there won't be another chance to practice on a bullet wound, not on someone who deserve to suffer as much as he does, at least. And there are no cameras here.”

“Natasha, you can't be ser-”

“He's bleeding out. Now or never, Maria. Do you want an answer? Do you want to help me save Dominika?”

Maria clenched her jaw and sighed, but Natasha was making quite a few good points.

She knelt down and reluctantly put her hands on the man abdomen, carefully avoiding to touch any blood. She focused and managed to force the bullets out, to force the wound to stop bleeding and the edges of the cuts to come together, effectively healing him. His screams weren't helping her concentration, but she had to keep going. She focused on his blood pressure, on his body temperature. She could feel those dropping, but all she could do was activate the body's natural compensation mechanism, because she had no fluids and no IV, so there was no way she could make him completely healthy again.

“Done. He could need a transfusion but he won't die.”

“Fourty-three seconds. Not bad. Want to tell us which other facilities are active?” Natasha asked, her gun pointed at him.

“You won't shoot. I'm unarmed and on the floor, and you're with S.H.I-” his scream cut through the air, as Natasha shot him in the chest, two bullets, in the exact same spots Dominika had been shot by a Red Room agent.

Maria looked up at her, incredulously. Natasha just told her “it's just where one of his agent shot that little girl in front of me,” and Maria looked back down at the man.

She tried to heal the bullet wounds just as she regulated his other parameters, so it would be significantly faster.

“Thirteen seconds, you're getting very good at this,” Natasha noted. “So, those facilities?”

He shook his head, in too much pain to talk. Natasha raised his gun again, but he whimpered and begged her not to shoot.

“They moved everything to some place in the middle of nowhere, up North.”

“Where?” Natasha demanded.

“I don't know.”

Two other shots rang in the air and Maria was already focusing on the healing without scoffing at Natasha for the sadistic game she was playing.

“Seven seconds. That's perfect. Where?” Natasha asked again.

“Somewhere on a small island in the Laptev Sea. They're regrouping, since you took out quite a few of us. I don't know anything else.”

Natasha nodded, convinced he was telling the truth.

“Do you remember Katia? She was one of yours. You let Bezukhov kill her, just because he wanted to. You didn't even protest, when he put that gun in my hand and told me it was me or her. You didn't even flinch when he shot her himself.”

“You know how he was,” he tried to reason with Natasha. “There was no arguing with him, Natalia. He would have killed me, too. But you won't, Natalia. You will spare my life, da?”

“That is not my name anymore.”

She shot him once, in the head, so he wouldn't suffer. There had been too much of that already.

They didn't talk for a long while, they took a look around them, at all those deaths in their path. That war they started, it was bigger than them. It went beyond them, around them, and through them. It was changing them and making them do the unspeakable. And yet, there was no other path for them to take from there.

Maria was the one to break the silence.

“Wait, you jumped before, to ambush those agents standing outside. Won't Fitz-Simmons notice it?”

“I didn't jump in time, I was still here. I just changed my position. The Web Thread tech only registers time jumps, and according to Fitz's calculations, they tolerate a thirty seconds lag.”

“That's dangerous, though. You could be using those thirty seconds to jump anywhere in the world as long as you stay in the same day they send you for the mission.”

“Yes, Maria, I'm destroying S.H.I.E.L.D. thirty seconds at a time,” Natasha said, rolling her eyes.

“Well, you could be divulging sensitive information.”

Natasha rolled her eyes again. “Why would I? We're on the same side.”

“Will you be when this is over? When the Red Room is out of the picture? Where will we be then?”

“Still on the same side, Maria. There's going to be another evil agency to take down and I'll fight at your side, just as you're fighting at mine. Now, please focus. We only have thirty seconds and I've never attempted this before,” Natasha lied, “so we need to be very fast and very precise.”

Maria sighed, but nodded, “Let's save her.”

“Let's save her,” Natasha repeated.

**[March 9th, 2007 – Tomsk, Russia]**

Natasha brought them to the safe house in which they held Drakov's daughter prisoner, they hid in the room adjacent to the one Dominika had been shot in. After Natalia jumped to get Bezukhov, Maria and Natasha slid into the room with Dominika, knowing Natalia would re-appear in the room they just left, with Ivan.

They waited, silently, without moving an inch. The heard two shots, then nothing more.

Natasha nodded to Maria, and she ran to Dominika, checking her pulse with one hand while starting the healing process on her abdomen with the other. In no more than five seconds, she was healed and breathing regularly.

“I'll bring her home,” Natasha told Maria quickly, while lifting the kid into her arms.

Maria nodded, knowing Natasha would be caught on camera there, since the Drakov's had the video evidence of the Devil's Keeper delivering their daughter back home broadcasted on television and any other kind of media they could reach.

Natasha lifted her and jumped to the mansion her parents were staying in. She was glad she still remembered every detail about that mission, including the surveillance data they acquired prior to the events that led to Bezukhov's death.

She jumped right in the middle of their living room. She knew there was no rush, she couldn't tell Maria she found a way around Fitz-Simmons approximation, so she had to convince her they would only have thirty seconds, but Natasha actually jumped vertically, from inside her own journey, not horizontally, and it give her much more time.

As soon as she appeared there, a man sitting on the arm chair jumped up, while the woman on the couch gasped loudly. Three men, probably security guards, were already standing up. Their weapons were immediately raised in Natasha's direction.

“Who are you?” Drakov asked her.

“I'm the woman who saved your daughter,” Natasha stepped forward and placed the kid in his arms, feeling her reacting to the change of grip, starting to shift and awaken.

“Was this the Red Room's doing?”

Natasha shifted her eyes towards the man who asked the question.

“It was.”

“How do I know they won't attempt this again?” Drakov asked, his voice a little erratic.

“They won't.”

“How are you so sure? Who are you?” Mrs Drakov asked, standing up from her spot on the couch after regaining some sort of control.

Natasha slightly tilted her chin to the right.

A glint of recognition – no, not even that, but a glint of intuition mixed with fear – gleamed in Mrs Drakov's eyes.

“I'm the Devil's Keeper.”

It was the last thing she said, before disappearing into thin air again.

Back at the safe house, she grabbed Maria's shoulder the exact moment she landed, jumping again, bringing them both to the warehouse.

Then, for a second, everything was motionless.

They did it. They saved Dominika.

Natasha never believed they could. Despite Maria telling her so, despite the video proving she was alive, despite everything, she still felt like there was no hope, no way to change what happened already. And technically, there wasn't a way to change that. But she realized, right then, right there, that things weren't always what they seemed to be the moment she was living them.

There were multiple layers to the truth. She just had to get through it, one by one, uncovering every version of history, every version of herself. What people saw in her was very different from what Maria seemed to have seen in her, and Natasha was starting to realize there was no reason to value the world's version over Maria's.

If the whole world believed her to be evil, she could live with that, she made her peace with that, whether it was true or not. But Maria believed her to be good, and she wanted, more than anything else, to be that person. That person on the receiving end of Maria's loving eyes.

If her fate wasn't yet set in stone, if there was one way, one single way, for her to change it, then she was going to find it. To figure it out. To be the person that Maria Hill loved.

“Are you okay?”

She opened her eyes, turning slowly to face Maria. She recognized those eyes. Natasha knew that her young Maria was turning into the Commander she knew; but saving that little girl, helping Natasha fulfill that selfless task, put something else inside her eyes. For the first time since meeting Maria, their positions were, for once, reversed: she could see her young Maria in the Commander's eyes.

“We didn't see each other just once,” Natasha said, instead of answering. “The way you believe in me, the way you care about me,” she pushed for an answer, despite already knowing the truth. “You were in love with me. You saw something good in me, something worth starting a war for. And I'm going to become that person you loved, even if it kills me.”

Maria's eyes weren't hurt, or angry, she wasn't trying to hide the truth anymore. She looked sad, infinitely sad.

“That's exactly what I'm afraid of. I know where this road ends, Natasha. Everyday, I see you turning into her. Everyday, I see you becoming her, and I've tried to keep my distance, so you wouldn't be tempted to change. So you wouldn't be curious to know what we had, to go back to the past, but nevertheless, you're becoming her.”

“Is that such a terrible thing? To get back the woman you once loved?”

“I said I know where the road ends. And it's not a place I want you to arrive at any time soon, Natasha. The more I can keep you from our past, the longer I can keep present you alive. Whatever is going to happen to you once my past collides with your present, isn't something good. If you don't go back, if you don't live those moments, I know you'll live another day. But once you’re done living the all the adventures in our story as I remember, then I can't be assured that you are going to be alright anymore.”

“If you have memories of us that I haven't yet lived, it means nothing bad can happen to me in the present,” Natasha finally understood, “because that would change your past and cause a paradox and reality would collapse on itself.”

“I'll lock you up in a prison and have reality collapse, Natasha, if it keeps you from dying.”

“It could be years in the future, Maria. It's ridiculous. You're so afraid of a thing that you're not even sure is going to happen that it's keeping you from living the present.”

Maria shook her head. “I can't-”

“It's not your decision to make; I should be free to decide where I want to be in my free time, what I want to do, how I want to live my life!”

“I can't let you.”

“Why the hell not?!” Natasha raised her voice, and finally got a reaction out of Maria.

“Because I can't lose you again!”

Her words echoed in the empty warehouse and, for a second, everything slid into place for Natasha. Maria trying to be cold with her in the present, going out with Stark, trying to keep her distance, so she wouldn't go back to the past. It was all to protect her.

“If I don't go back, Maria, you won't lose me again, and you won't lose me the first time either. Because you'd have never had me in the first place. You wouldn't be who you are.”

Natasha stepped to her and grabbed her shoulder, ready to jump back to the Helicarrier.

“I'd give that up,” Maria admitted in a regretful whisper. “I'd give up my memories and myself, if it kept you alive.”

Natasha shook her head. “I wouldn't. I wouldn't give us up to keep me alive. I am who I am because of you.”

Before Maria could ask what she meant, Natasha brought them back to the Helicarrier, where their team was waiting for them.

  



	20. Beggars Can't Be Choosers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 2007, March 8th-9th : The Black Widow turns herself in and is brought to the Helicarrier  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2007, April 16th -19th: Natasha jumps to 2001 and meets Maria on March, June and September  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2007, April 23rd: Natasha goes to August 17th, 2002 and meets Maria after her first tour  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2007, April 28th: Natasha visits Maria in September, 2002, after her tour in Iraq  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2007, April 28th: Natasha and Maria are on a surveillance mission in Moscow taking place on April 21st; they discover the man behind Maria's father's kidnapping is Petrovich; Maria learns how to heal others; they save Dominika.

  


  


**[April 28th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

They reported to Fury everything they learned in the mission, the location of the new Red Room base, and only left out what happened during the few moments it took them to save Dominika.

Fury listened through the report, assessed the situation quietly, then told them they were going to get as close to the location as possible with the Helicarrier, because there was a chance that most of their field teams would be required to attend that mission.

If Petrovich was correct, all of the Red Room remaining assets were on that facility. It was their chance to end the battle against that organization once and for all, they had to plan ahead and be smart about it.

“We should be near enough to send out the Quinjets in twenty-four hours. Get a good night of rest and we can discuss logistics and tactics tomorrow. Dismissed.”

Maria and Natasha nodded and left his office, after he put Natasha's handcuffs back on. They walked towards the quarters where the rooms were, without talking.

Natasha was the one to break the silence, as they approached Maria's room.

“Thank you. For helping me.”

Maria nodded. “We did the right thing. And now you know you can use your power for good,” she glanced briefly around to confirm they were alone in the corridor. “Some of us don't have that choice.”

“Technically, you were the one who saved her, so-”

“I was talking about my mother.”

Natasha stopped and then nodded, sighing a little. “Whatever she saw, she could never do anything to avoid it.”

Maria nodded, a sad smile on her face. “She tried once, when she was young. It blew up in her face and she ended up making things happen exactly as she saw. Her visions were unavoidable.”

“How do you know this much? I thought you never met her.”

“I didn't. She left me some letters, and my grandmother told me some stories. But no, I never met her in person.”

“That's a shame. She would have loved you.”

“How do you know that?”

“I don't, it's just a feeling,” she shrugged. But then, a dangerous thought invaded her mind. “But there is one way to find out for sure.”

Maria frowned and turned to her. The glint of mischief in Natasha's eyes said everything without her having to utter a word.

“No.”

“I could take you to her. We could go back and you could say hi.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, Maria. I know you want to meet her. You helped me today with something I had to do; I could do the same for you. Aren't you curious?”

Maria hesitated for a moment, actually thinking about it. She could shake her hand, just once. She could shake her mother's hand and then never see her again, no harm done. She frowned slightly and shook her head, willing that thought away.

“No. Fury would never let us, anyway. And besides, I thought you couldn't travel outside of your own timeline.”

“I traveled to New York the night we met, without ever being there before. I traveled to Chicago to when you were a kid. I could try to go a few years back. To go beyond my own life span. I'm not sure I could, but what's the harm in trying?”

Maria hesitated again, then shook her head. “Fury-”

“He will let us, if you ask him nicely. You haven't asked for days off for how long exactly? He won't deny you a few seconds, will he?” Natasha gave her a look that said she knew Maria was just making excuses.

Maria stayed silent for a long moment, actually seemingly thinking about it. Natasha smirked, knowing that sometimes a doubt was enough. It wasn't a no, so she took it for a yes and started walking backwards to where they came from.

“Natasha...”

“Maria,” Natasha kept smiling to her while walking. “Are you coming with me?”

She hesitated a second longer, but then realized that the worst that could happen was Fury saying no and at least then Natasha would drop it. She sighed, following her back into Fury's office.

“Hill, Romanoff, I hoped you would at least make it back to your quarters before something else came up.”

“No, sir, it's not mission-related,” Natasha stated. “Agent Hill wanted to ask for something.”

Maria looked at her with an outraged expression, both for being sold out and for the ridiculous insinuation that bothering Fury to ask for time off work could actually be her idea.

“Actually, sir, Agent Romanoff had this idea-”

“Out with it, one of you, now. I don't have all day.”

“I wanted to require a few hours off duty, sir,” Maria stated.

“And I'd have to be her chaperone, sir,” Natasha added.

Maria subtly rolled her eyes at that.

“You want to jump again?”

“Yes, sir. For a personal-related matter,” Maria declared. “Of course, if you don't think that's wise, then we-”

“I can't see why not. You'll be with Agent Romanoff the whole time, and since I've granted her this request before, it only seems fair I do the same for you. You only have a few seconds,” he declared, approaching Natasha and opening the biometric key on her handcuffs. “Make the most of them, because I won't be granting any personal jumps anymore.”

“Copy that, sir,” Natasha nodded.

“Wait, are you sure you want to use your last unofficial jump for this?” Maria asked in a whisper as Fury stepped away from Natasha and the redhead put a hand on her shoulder.

“I am. You deserve this. Plus, I don't think Director Fury would let me go on another private jump if it wasn't specifically to help you, so this might be my only chance to travel for a long, long time,” she said, raising an eyebrow towards Fury, who did nothing to dissipate her insinuations. “I'll take the free time I can get, however, whenever, and wherever I can.”

“And here we were, thinking you wanted to help Agent Hill,” Fury replied curtly.

“Yes, that too,” Natasha smirked, then disappeared along with Maria.

**[August 29th, 1981 – Chicago]**

They reappeared on a busy street and immediately ducked into an alley as soon as they realized anybody could have seen them.

“Did it work?” Maria wondered.

“I'm not sure, I think so. I miscalculated the place slightly, but still, jumping outside of my lifespan was something I never thought I would be able to do.”

“Where-” Maria started to ask, but she realized it was the wrong question. “ _When_ are we?”

“Chicago, 1981\. I did my best to think of you, I don't know why this specific street.”

“I wasn't born in 1981.”

“Well, if you were...”

“...my mom wouldn't be alive. She was pregnant, very early on. So if you focused on jumping to me but in this year, then-”

“-she must be close. Yes.”

They stopped surveying the pedestrian, since nobody seemed to be looking in their direction, and looked at each other for a second.

Maria grimaced a little. “Let's never finish each other’s sentences again.”

“Agreed. Now let's go, we have to find her before she gets too far away.”

Maria nodded and sighed, but as soon as they stepped into the main street again, she stopped dead in her tracks.

“Yeah, that's not gonna be a problem. She's sitting in the diner across the street, reading a book,” Maria pointed to the place with her head.

“Great,” Natasha smiled. “I was just starting to get hungry, I could do with a burger. Or two.”

Maria sighed, but followed her nevertheless.

“What if she hasn't had the visions yet?”

“Don't mention who you are and we should be fine,” Natasha shrugged.

Maria looked nervous, but they got inside and queued behind her, waiting patiently for the line to go forward.

When her mother picked up her order and turned around, Natasha managed to casually be in her way, making her knock the coffee over, but unfortunately also a little bit on herself.

“Oh my God, I'm so sorry!”

“No, it's my fault, I turned too quickly, I should have imagined somebody would be in line behind me.”

“Please, let me buy you another one. Maria, can you grab us a table, help this nice woman clean up?” Natasha turned to Maria, smiling innocently.

Maria was once again baffled by Natasha's ability to lie through her teeth. But she smiled and nodded, escorting the nice woman – her own mother – to an empty table nearby. She grabbed the napkins on the table and handed her a couple.

“I'm sorry, my friend can be clumsy sometimes.”

“It's alright, this isn't one of my favorite shirts, anyway,” she whispered almost conspiratorially, then sat down at the table.

Maria took the seat in front of hers.

“My name's Maria, by the way.”

“Christina,” the woman smiled, shaking her hand.

“My friend over there is Natasha,” she added, glancing her way. She was chatting up the cashier as she was waiting for their orders and it made Maria smile, she remembered all those past dates and days with her too well, it was like a glimpse in her own past. She turned back to the woman in front of her, realizing she was staring. “Again, I'm very s-”

“It's fine, really,” she chuckled a little, waving her hand. “She'll get me another one, so it's more than alright.”

“Still, your shirt is ruined and we made you late.”

“Nothing some dry cleaning can't fix, and I'm stuck here waiting for someone for at least an hour, so really, you're doing me a favor keeping me company.”

Maria smiled, still apologetically. “Who are you waiting for, if I can ask?”

“My husband. He was delayed at work.”

Maria's smile faltered, but she recovered quickly. “How long have you been married?”

“Long enough to know that look in your eyes,” she raised an eyebrow, then lowered her eyes towards her shirt as she patted the stain with the napkins. “So, your accent seems from around here.”

Maria glanced briefly at Natasha again. Was she that obvious?

“I am, actually. Born and raised here in Chicago.”

“Still live around here?”

“No, actually. I-” _live in a giant flying heliport_ “ -live in New York City, now.”

Christina smiled and hummed. “What do you do there?”

“Ah, I-”

“We're FBI,” Natasha answered smoothly, offering one of the cups she was holding to Christina and another one to Maria, sitting beside her with her own drink in hand.

“Sounds dangerous and cool,” she smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Are you here on a mission?”

“Not really, we took a couple of days off,” Maria said, shrugging. “I wanted to come back in town for a visit, Natasha offered to come with me.”

“Do you like your job?” Christina asked Maria, curiosity shining in her eyes. “Does it make you happy? I mean, it's not everyday you meet someone who works for the FBI,” she chuckled, than looked around suspiciously and lowered her voice. “Can you tell me something about the aliens?”

“Ah, cool dudes, will invade in 2012,” Natasha stated casually.

Maria turned to look at her, completely baffled by that statement.

When Christina chuckled and Natasha looked at her with amusement, Maria realized it was merely a joke. She almost sighed in relief.

“I do. Like my job, I mean. I love it, actually.”

She talked about her boss, her coworkers, then asked Christina what her job was like and if she liked it. Time flew by as they chatted about their lives, what they loved, what they liked, what they avoided at all costs.

In a way, Maria felt she was getting to know her in a way she never had the chance to. Suddenly, all the things Maria always wanted to ask her mother just floated away in the wind. It didn't matter if Christina knew she was going to die, if she’d regretted having Maria, if she’d regretted anything. It wasn't important. All of that had already happened, it couldn't be changed. But she could get to know her mother like that, just like an old friend could. Then maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

“I'll get us another coffee,” Maria offered. “Be right back.”

Christina and Natasha both smiled at her as she got up. Then, Natasha noticed how Christina's eyes stayed on her and became softer.

“When you go back, tell her I'm proud of her,” she whispered, her eyes still on Maria as she neared the counter.

“Go back? I don't-”

“Let's not do this,” she turned to Natasha, her smile still in place. “Just tell her, please. And take care of my daughter, for the both of us.”

Natasha swallowed, then nodded. “I know it's hard to believe, but I would never hurt her. I don't expect you to trust me, but it's the truth.”

“Why shouldn't I trust you?”

“I'm the Devil.”

Christina smiled at that. “What you two have, what you feel for each other, it's a once in a lifetime thing. No matter how long that lifetime might be. She chose you, loves you, and if there's one thing I trust, it's her.”

“I didn't know if you would.”

Christina looked her in the eyes for a long moment, assessing her statement, her gaze, her posture, until she realized what Natasha meant.

“You think I shouldn't trust her because you made her. You think you shaped her to the bottom of her, to the very heart of her,” a soft smile reappeared on her lips. “She was a soldier the day before she met you, and she's a soldier still. And what were you the day before you met her? And what are you now?”

“A monster.” There was no doubt, in Natasha's voice. No hesitation, nothing but the certainty of her true nature.

But Christina chuckled at that statement. “You were no monster,” she shook her head. “You were a scared little girl, who had been taught not to ever love. And you're no monster now. After her, you've learned every last secret your power holds, you've learned how to travel through all of time and space, outside your timeline, and live forever. And you did this for love of her.”

“I-”

“You're no monster. You're a _Devil_. Nothing but an Angel fallen in disgrace, for the absence of love. For your love of her and for the love she has for you, you can change that. You believe you made her, but she was the one who made _you_ , she was the one who shaped the very heart of you. Every Devil has a Keeper. Guardian Angels are born in pairs. And even if you may have fallen, she is there to help you get back up. She will keep you safe. And for that, you will keep the world safe.”

Natasha stayed silent for the longest time, pondering those words, then shaking them away when she realized she could never carry that kind of burden.

“I can't lie to her.”

“I'm not asking you to. Just don't say anything now, do it when you go back.”

“She'll never forgive me if I-”

“She would forgive you anything, my dear. We both know that.” Christina leaned towards her and smiled. It wasn't mean but it wasn't innocent either. “I'll keep your secret if you keep mine,” she told her with complicity.

Natasha frowned, unsure if Christina was aware of her unauthorized jumps, but decided not to take the risk of asking as Maria came back with the coffees.

“So, Maria, you were telling me about the army;” Christina smiled, taking a sip of the offered cup.

They kept talking and lost track of time. When Christina's phone ringed and her husband announced that he wouldn't make it, she offered to meet him home.

When she walked away, they said their goodbyes and parted in a simple manner, like Maria hadn't been dreaming of meeting that woman for the better part of her childhood. Christina hugged her and if Maria held on too tight and for too long, neither complained. It was the one and only hug she was ever going to be able to have with her mother, she realized as she watched her go.

“We have to head back,” Natasha whispered after a few seconds of Maria looking at Christina walking away.

Maria nodded and averted her eyes, following Natasha across the street and back to the empty alley they appeared in. “So, aliens? In 2012? You were joking, right?”

Natasha smirked, but said nothing to confirm or deny.

  
  


**[April 28th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

After Fury repositioned the handcuffs, they headed out again. May and Coulson were waiting outside the office, their eyes were on them as soon as they exited the door.

“How did the mission go?” May asked as soon as they were within ear shot.

“We found Petrovich. He gave us the location of the few operatives left and Fury want to get near with the Helicarrier in case we need backup, then he'll dispatch a few teams,” Maria summed up.

“And I guess you'll be the one in charge, right?” Coulson added rhetorically.

Maria frowned at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just asking.”

“I don't know, he'll probably send more than one team. You two will probably be in charge of two different strike teams,” she assessed casually, but choosing her words carefully.

“But you'll be the one coordinating,” he pressed again, with his slightly condescending tone.

“Why are you being so resentful about this?”

“I'm not,” Coulson defended himself. “I'm really not, I trust your judgment.”

“But?” Maria prompted him.

He exchanged a look with May, then turned to Natasha.

“You asked Fury to arrest you the first time Natasha showed up,” May pointed out. “He put you in charge of finding her because you knew her.”

“And I did find her.”

“She surrendered herself,” Phil pointed out.

“I surrendered myself to Hill specifically, so I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her,” Natasha countered.

“Barton is in medical,” he said.

“Yes, that's correct,” Maria said. “And he would have been in the obituary if it wasn't for Natasha, who _saved_ him.”

“You let her walk around without handcuffs because you were on the phone with Bobbi, making her translate a conversation she had with a suspect,” Phil pointed out.

“That's what you were doing?” Natasha said incredulously.

“I was double checking. That's the opposite of what you're insinuating,” Maria answered, ignoring Natasha.

“I'm not insinuating. I'm out right saying it. You're getting too comfortable around her. She's still the Devil's Keeper,” he said, then turned to Natasha. “You are. I trust you with my life, Natasha. I know you saved Clint and I know you would risk your life to save any of us.”

“But?” Natasha asked.

“But,” May continued Coulson's train of thought. “Carter shouldn't have left you without handcuffs. Hill, you should have been checking on her. Something, we don't know what or when, is going to turn you into the person who destroyed cities, started wars, ended civilizations. If that happens because we turned around or pretended to look the other way, it'll be on us.”

“And by us, you mean on me,” Maria said.

“I'm her, I'm the person you're talking about,” Natasha pointed out. “You talk about how you trust me, but it falls quite flat when you talk about how one little thing could send me completely adrift in the same breath.”

“No, we don't think that,” Coulson said. “But we do know that all it takes is one little event to set things in motion. And we want to avoid just that, Natasha. Don't you?”

She opened her mouth to tell him how of course she wanted to stay good, of course she would have given absolutely anything to never disappoint Maria. But nothing came out, because a voice rooted deep down inside of her, answered in her place.

“There's nothing you can do that can change the past. Those things already happened somehow, and whatever it is that will change me to that monster, it's already started.”

Phil sighed and turned to Maria.

“Do you understand now? It's not that we want to cage her. We want to protect her, because she would protect all of us, but herself. We gotta do it for her, Maria.”

“I don't need you to worry about me, Coulson. Just do your damn job.” Natasha's voice was hard and decisive, and she walked away as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

The three of them watched her go.

“Well, that could've gone better,” he said quietly.

“You think?” Maria snapped at him.

“Maria, you know he's right. We need to keep a closer eye on her,” May said. “You know how prisoners escape. It only takes a moment of loosening the strings and before you know it they've wiggled free. A change in pattern is sometimes all it takes.”

Maria hated to admit it, even to herself, but they were right.

They went to save Dominika, they went to meet her mother, in the last few hours Natasha had jumped a lot of times and she was getting better and better at it. Maria herself noticed how the jumps were becoming sharper, no lag, no indecision. Her powers were growing unimaginably and quickly.

It was a change in pattern, as May said.

“Wait,” she frowned. “A change in pattern.”

May and Coulson looked at each other, then back at Maria's confused expression.

Natasha told her that Fitz-Simmons’ calculations were rounded to a thirty seconds acknowledged margin of mistake. So that was the few seconds they could jump in parallel to prevent that they picked up on the tray she was leaving in time. The jumps had to last less than that so the signal wouldn't be registered.

It was the reason they had to rescue Dominika in under thirty seconds. Because the parallel jump could only last that long.

“The Drakov's security camera video feed,” Maria whispered, looking at May. “How long was that video?”

“The one that aired in every existing television network? I don't know, a couple of minutes, I guess?” May said, her voice a little confused.

Maria's heart sunk.

Natasha was gone a lot more than thirty seconds. Why didn't she think about it before?

Because May was right, that was why. Because she started trusting Natasha, she started letting her move without checking and double-checking and triple-checking her every move. And that was the mistake that was going to ruin them all.

“She must have found a way to avoid Fitz-Simmons picking up on her trail.”

May and Coulson both frowned, they looked at each other, then back at Maria, wordlessly.

“That's not possible,” Coulson stated.

“It has to be,” Maria insisted. “Or she found another way, I don't know. But I need to check up on all the recordings of her jumps and all the videos and-” she sighed.

She was exhausted. Her nightmare still lingered in her mind, Natasha's words against her ear were louder than ever. “ _This thing in your heart, this is gonna be the death of you. And I'm going to enjoy every second of it.”_

She brushed her fingers against her forehead, then her closed eyelids, pressing against her eyes, willing the burning from sleep deprivation to go away.

“Where are Fitz-Simmons, by the way?”

“On a Quinjet, coming in as we speak. They should arrive in the morning,” Coulson said.

“Good. Have Sharon bring us coffee, you're helping me out, we're going to-”

“Maria, you've been on mission after mission, some of them in the past, one has lasted two days even if it was just a few seconds in the present. You need to rest,” May told her, her tone left no room for an argument. “She's handcuffed and in an Helicarrier above the sky, surrounded by agents. She's not going to jump anywhere tonight.”

“You were the ones who were so anxious to pin something on her, why are you backing off now?” Maria sighed again.

“We're not. We're going to help you. But not now. In the morning, Maria,” Coulson answered. “This could take us hours and you look like you could pass out any moment. As soon as you wake up, we're going to check everything you just said. As May said, she's handcuffed.”

Maria nodded, feeling the need to close her eyes raising with every breath she took.

“She's handcuffed,” she repeated, almost to reassure herself. “And I'm probably wrong, anyway. She would never just betray our trust like this, there has to be an explanation.”

Maybe, Maria thought, she got delayed at the Drakov's and the report time of that day's mission would confirm that the mission lasted longer than what they reported and that there was a second jump tracked by their devices.

“We have no idea what you're talking about,” May pointed out.

Maria sighed. “I know. I'll explain tomorrow.”

Coulson and May nodded, then watched her walk away. She turned around one last time, walking backwards and scoffing at them.

“You've made me paranoid. I've jumped to the assumption that Fitz-Simmons did some mistakes with the math – and we all know that's not possible – just because according to you there _has_ to be something wrong.”

“We didn't say that,” Coulson smiled weakly at her.

“We'll sort this out tomorrow, you guys get some rest as well,” Maria told them, then turned around again and headed for her quarters.

Natasha was handcuffed.

There was no proof she even did something wrong.

Then why was there a dreadful feeling settling down on her stomach?

She reached her room, undressed quickly, got into bed. Immediately, all the chaos and madness of the last few days leaked away, and an unspeakable exhaustion fell upon her.

She closed her eyes, and in a moment, she was fast asleep.

  
  



	21. Persona Non Grata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 2007, March 8th-9th : The Black Widow turns herself in and is brought to the Helicarrier  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 16th -19th: Natasha jumps to 2001 and meets Maria on March, June and September  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 23rd: Natasha goes to August 17th, 2002 and meets Maria after her first tour  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 28th: Natasha visits Maria in September, 2002, after her tour in Iraq  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 28th: Natasha and Maria take out Petrovich and save Dominika  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 28th: Natasha takes Maria back to 1981 to meet her mother  
> |  
> ○ → 2007, April 28th: May and Coulson start to be suspicious about Natasha's whereabouts and Maria is persuaded to further investigate her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm truly sorry for the wait, it took me ages to understand my new laptop but now we're friends. To make up for the absence have this Deal Breaker chapter, with a plotwist meant to leave you wondering what the fudge will happen next until I update again (maye I'm overselling by abilities a little, I know). Enjoy!

**[April 29th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Natasha listened to the whole conversation Maria had with Coulson and May before silently slipping away so that Maria wouldn't suspect that she was eavesdropping. What Maria said was concerning. She’d slipped. She’d made a mistake, a big one.

She should have remembered there was a video recording of her inside the Bezukhov's house that went viral, but she carelessly lost count of the seconds she was in there, so Maria knew she lied. Or rather, she suspected Natasha had lied and that she'd been lying about her jumps for a while.

She had to stall. To buy some time and prevent Maria from finding out the truth, at least until she found a way to justify those lags in the jumps. But how could she do something like that without arousing the Commander’s suspicions? And wasn't that just another lie?

Maybe, she thought, the right thing to do was do nothing at all. No more lies or deceit. She would just wait and let things unfold in their own way.

It was early in the morning, but she couldn't sleep. She walked to the gym, knowing she would have it for herself at least for a couple of hours. But she had been in there just a few minutes, when she heard the door open and close again. A few moments went by, then Maria started running on the machine next to hers.

“You couldn't sleep either?”

Natasha just hummed. “I thought you would be with Coulson and May checking my jumps again by now.”

She couldn't help the resentful tone of her words. Despite the fact that May and Coulson were right, that she had been sneaking around, Maria believing them was still hurtful to her.

“You know they're right. You know, as agents, it's our job to double check. To triple, quadruple check sometimes.”

“So why aren't you with them quadruple checking?”

“Simmons and Fitz arrive in an hour, thought I'd squeeze in a quick workout.”

Natasha hummed again.

They stayed silent for a while, just running side by side.

“I'll have to tell Fury about Dominika,” Maria told her abruptly.

“I already did. It's not in the report, but I told him unofficially. It's not like I was alone, you were with me, we saved a child's life, I didn't think I should have lied about it. Plus it took me more than thirty seconds, so it would have shown up either way.”

“Great. That's great,” Maria said, not having any reason to believe Natasha was omitting a large part of the truth.

Maria fell quiet again, while Natasha kept trying to think about something to say or do to stop her from looking into those videos.

“I'm glad we could save her, by the way,” Maria added. “It was a nice change, we get so used to shooting bad guys we sometimes forget what's really important.”

“Saving kids?”

“Saving lives, yes.”

“Well, we could do that all the time. Literally. We could save countless of lives of random citizens, but what we do usually saves more people. We act on a larger scale, it doesn't mean we're not still doing what's right.”

“I know, I know. But for once, seeing the face of the person we’d saved, actually knowing she's alive because of us... it's a good feeling. That's all I'm saying.”

Natasha thought about what Maria was saying for a moment. Then she remembered what Christina told her the day before; how Natasha would master her power out of love for Maria. That she was shaped by it, changed by it.

“Christina,” the name slipped from her lips before she could stop herself.

Maria's eyes snapped in her direction, “What?”

“She doesn't have to die. We could save her, too.”

“What?” Maria asked again, in a whisper.

Natasha was basically just thinking out loud at that point. “We can't leave her in the past, because she didn't exist back then, but it doesn't mean we can't save her. We could go back to the day you were born, go to the obituary after she died, you could heal her body and then we could restart her heart. She could jump back with us, live in the present.”

“Okay, wait, slow down a second, Doctor Frankenstein,” Maria lowered the speed of her machine until it came to a halt, then got off and waited for Natasha to do the same. “You're just blabbering right? You're not actually considering this.”

“Why not? We could save your mother's life.”

“You're talking about resurrecting a woman who has been dead for thirty years!” Maria's words were incredulous.

“Maybe she hasn't been. Maybe she was just here in 2007, waiting for you.”

Maria opened her mouth, she looked like she was about to start yelling, but then she stopped herself, took a deep and calming breath, and opened her mouth again.

“My mother is dead. I saw her casket, I said goodbye,” Maria tried to stay calm, but her words were hard around the edges, and she was speaking slowly and firmly, ensuring that she was making herself clear.

“We could-”

“I swear to God, if you suggest we go grave digging I will bring you back into the Web Thread myself!”

And Natasha grimaced and shrugged. Admittedly, it sounded better in her head.

“This is what they meant,” Maria said, sighing and rubbing her eyes with her hands. “We shouldn't have gone soft on you.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and sighed. “I wanted to save your mother's life, it's not like I suggested we start World War III or something.”

“Sure, and after her what? Dominika, then my mother. Then who? Your parents? Your brothers? Where does it end, Natasha?”

“I never suggested this, I was just- you know what, forget it.”

“No, I can't fucking forget it! This is the road to hell, it might be paved with good intentions but it still ends there. You're playing with life and death, and this is the way to becoming-”

“The Devil.”

“The Devil's Keeper,” Maria corrected her.

Natasha's eyes narrowed for a second. “You still don't get it, do you? I've been telling you, I'm the Devil herself. And, in case you forgot, I can't do any of that without you. My power's only half of it. I can't bring anyone back to life on my own, so,” she raised her arms and dropped them back down.

“Yeah, and you can rest assured, I'm not providing the other half for you to play God. Nobody should have this kind of power, Natasha, nobody. Not even half of it, not even two different people combined. Don't you get it?” she gestured between the two of them, her voice dropping to an almost whisper. “Together, we could do what you said. We could decide who lives and who dies, on a whim.”

“Don't you trust yourself to make that decision?”

“No!” Maria looked at her as if she was crazy. “Absolutely not. Nobody should be trusted to decide something like this on their own. What if tomorrow something terrible happens, and for that reason we decide to just take a shortcut to win this war we started?”

“Why would we? We're rational people, if Fury himself had to pick-”

“Natasha, for Heaven's sake, I just told you why. We started a war! I started a war, just to get you back. I threw away years I spent building a career here just to set you free. We're two people. We're only human, we make shitty decisions when we're involved personally and if we go down a road like that, there's no coming back. It's wrong. Playing with life and death is wrong. It's not something we should be able to decide on our own, who live, who dies, who get transported thirty years in the future.”

“Fine. Then we won't.”

“The fact that you considered it is what concerns me, Romanoff. May and Coulson were right,” she said, sighing again and turning towards the door. “This is how prisoners escape. When you stop seeing them as prisoners and you think they changed.”

She started walking away as Natasha whispered, “I did change,”

The sound of the door shutting behind Maria rang in her ears long after she was gone. She was so desperate for a distraction that as soon as she came to the realization that they could do something like that for Christina, she didn't even stop to consider if they should. Of course Maria was right, but that meant her time was even shorter. She had to come up with something, quickly.

  


Maria changed into her uniform and headed for the empty lab where the Web Thread was still standing. It wasn't activated, but it was ready in case of emergency. She was granted access to the lab and immediately started accessing the files Fitz-Simmons analyzed.

She opened the files on the desk, took a pen, ready to correct any mistake she bumped into. She started with the first recorded mission and went on, by the time she got at the third one she was bored out of her mind and had yet to put her pen to use even once.

She was done with all of them by the time May and Coulson walked in.

“Found anything?” Phil asked her.

“No. But if there's something to find, I will.”

May nodded. “Fitz-Simmons are coming down here.”

“Good. You wanna help me?”

“Sure, what can we do?”

“Well, you can re-read Natasha's confidential reports and Fitz-Simmons assessments, see if something is amiss,” Maria handed them the stack of files.

“Consider it done.”

They got to work silently for a while, as Maria played another video again, from the beginning. It was only when she was almost done, that the lab door opened and Fitz-Simmons walked in, preceded by Sharon.

“What is going on?” Simmons asked when she saw the room was occupied.

“We're double checking the reports,” Maria answered briefly. Then she turned when she registered the surprise in Simmons' voice, without bothering to pause the video. “Wait, didn't Sharon warn you?”

“Well, we've been very accurate with the calculation,” Fitz answered, instead. “You won't find any mismatches. We know there's a few seconds off. We think that, as to be expected, the jump aren't a perfect match between the present and the past. A second corresponds roughly to an hour, yes, but there is a variation margin to be expected and it's nothing to be concerned about, only a few seconds.”

Maria turned to catch the moment Natasha returned on the video and jumped to the present and confronted the time with what Fitz wrote down. It was a match, of course. She sighed and rubbed her eyes, turning again without pausing the video.

“We were very precise in our assessments, I think you'll notice-” Simmons' voice stopped abruptly with a gasp. “Oh no.”

Maria reopened her eyes immediately and turned to the screen, but couldn't see anything. She paused it and looked at Simmons again, with a puzzled expression.

“What? What did you see?”

“Where did you find these videos?”

“What do you mean? I just pulled the original videos that Fury had the techs guys recover from those cameras Natasha said she stopped by when she arrived and left her missions.”

“Okay, but these aren't the one that were sent to us,” Simmons noted.

“Yes they are,” Fitz countered.

“They're longer, ours stopped when she jumped back. Jeremy, the hacker who recovered those videos, said he cropped them so we wouldn't waste time finding the right points where she arrived and departed. They started with her arrival, we timed the whole video, it ended with her departure. Every video started and ended like that,” Simmons explained.

“And why is that relevant?” May asked.

“It is, I've been wasting a lot of time to get to the right parts, actually,” Maria replied with a frustrated voice. She didn't mention that she knew that, a couple days ago, someone – she was sure it was Natasha – hacked those files and that was why she was using those.

“Maybe it wasn't wasted,” Simmons grimaced. “Can you play it again, from where she jumps back to the present?”

Maria frowned, exchanged a look with Sharon, who shrugged. She did as Simmons asked.

They watched as Natasha appeared on the feed, walking into the alley, and looked around, only to disappear again a moment later. Maria paused the video. She had already seen it two times and it looked like it checked out to her.

“No, wait, hit play.”

“But she-”

“I think I saw something after this,” Simmons explained her request.

Maria shrugged and did as she was told. After a few seconds, the screen seemed to glitch.

“There, did you see that?”

Maria was suddenly on alert. She slowed the video down, then played it again from the point Natasha jumped out. A few seconds later, something appeared and quickly disappeared again from the screen. She slowed the video down even more, playing it again. It was clearly someone, a person, appearing on the screen and disappearing instantly after. She moved it frame by frame, until, clear as day, Natasha appeared on the computer screen.

“Holy shit,” Sharon murmured.

Maria's brain was reeling. “Coulson, May, who has the file of this one mission? She jumped back to the 13th of February of this year, it was a data dropping for S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“I have it,” May said. “She went on that mission on April 18th,” she read out loud from the file. 

“Mission lasted two hours, Fitz-Simmons confirmed it was two seconds in the present and approximately two hours in the past. The calculations said she was off by a few milliseconds.”

“Because she was there a few seconds longer,” Maria pointed out. “Wait, February was two months ago. The Web Thread was already up and running, wasn't it?”

“Correct,” Fitz nodded.

“That means we were tracking every jump. It means we have her jumps recorded, not just the ones we assumed were Red Room jumps, but the ones she did on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s behalf, too. Can you access that record?”

“Sure, just a sec,” Fitz took place at the computer next to hers and logged in. After a few seconds he stood aside. “There. That day we picked up a jump, we assumed it was one of the usual jumps she was doing for the Red Room, but it wasn't.”

“But if we registered it as a regular jump, that means she was jumping from February to someplace else in time, as if she was,” Maria frowned and shrugged. “Double jumping? Vertical jumping from inside the first jump?”

“But that would mean,” Simmons pointed out, “that those few seconds she was gone from the video, then passed through again on her way to the present, those were a jump. It was, what? Three, four seconds? That's four hours.”

Maria looked at the time on the frame, then at what Fitz-Simmons wrote down on the file as the time of return. “Six seconds. Six hours she was MIA.”

“That's interesting,” Fitz murmured.

“What?” Sharon asked.

“She didn't jump in space, she stayed in New York. She just jumped back in time.”

“To?” Maria pressed.

“September 1st, 2001.”

Maria frowned. She was in deep thought for a very long moment. Then she sighed. “Shit.”

“What?” Sharon asked again.

Maria typed quickly into the computer Fitz was sitting in front of, to pull her personal file. She went to check on her own history in the army. “These are my days of leave. There it is, September 1st 2001.”

She pulled another of Natasha's videos on the screen of her own computer and quickly skimmed to the end, moving frame by frame.

“This is Natasha's mission on April, 19th. Six and a half seconds of gap, that means more than six hours somewhere else,” Maria noted. “She went back to retrieve data, December 7th, 2006, a few months ago, but you two were already working on this damn thing, right?” Maria asked Fitz.

He nodded and typed the date in. “We picked up a jump that day, too. September 15th, 2001.” He opened Maria's file again. “You were on a leave of absence then, too.”

“Fuck.”

“This can't be a coincidence,” May said.

“Do you want us to keep digging?” Coulson asked.

“Fuck.”

“You’ve already said that,” Sharon pointed out.

Maria sighed and pressed the heels of her hands on her eyes trying to collect her thoughts.

Natasha knew Maria was in charge of making sure she stayed in line. She would never force Maria to chose between her job or Natasha, but that put Maria in the position of having to find out that Natasha had been keeping this from her. She'd been going back to see her. She knew what they had – a part of what they had, at least – and she still didn't say anything. But the gnawing suspicion that Natasha was lying had sent Maria checking, her mistake with Dominika had made Maria investigate further. And she couldn't protect Natasha. She couldn't contain that secret.

Natasha had been lying for God only knew how long or about what else.

“Let's keep going,” Maria said, opening her eyes again. “We checked 18th, 19th, what about the 20th of April?”

“A mission on early March. We have the report,” Fitz said. “There is a jump registered from the day of her mission and it traces back to-” he stopped abruptly. “Shit.”

“What?”

“She didn't jump in time. Fury gave her a data retrieving on March 3rd, she jumped on that day, not in time, but in space. March 3rd, Egypt,” he read the report.

“The Red Room had some kind of drug trafficking there, didn't they? Drugs or something,” Sharon said. “They all disappeared after Maria's rampage, but we tracked some of their traffic there.”

“Check April 21st,” Maria ordered.

Fitz nodded. “Fury sent her on a mission in Seattle, one year back. The web wasn't active. But on the 22nd he sent her to February of this year, on the 18th. We registered a jump to China. Red Room's storage warehouses where all over the place there. Our land teams are still taking all those down to this day.”

Natasha hadn't been lying about seeing her, she had been lying about still having ties to the Red Room. Her heart dropped all the way to her feet.

“I was right,” she chuckled bitterly. “Wasn't I?”

“You were. She's been cheating the handcuffs,” Sharon said in a defeated tone, then sighed.

“No, not about this. I was right that day, when we first caught her,” she said in slightly bitter and defeated tone. “She was involved with me so I would go free her” she underlined the word free, “or rather she wanted me to grant her access to out top secret S.H.I.E.L.D. facility that Red Room had no idea even existed before,” she scoffed. “She made me believe I was freeing her so I would be soft on her, I would close an eye here and there. And I let her. I let her play me like this- again! There was nothing real. There is nothing real now. She's still working with the Red Room. All of this, all we did to try and prevent her from becoming The Devil's Keeper – and she's still on her way to that. She's still on her path to hell.”

“You couldn't know, Maria. None of us could have known, we were all played,” May pointed out, but it was superfluous.

“We let our guard slip. Never again. She's a prisoner, she's an enemy, and she's going back into that thing,” she pointed to the Web Thread, in front of them, “as soon as I can get a hold of her.”

She got up and started walking to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To warn Fury, there are only three people who can can Natasha off those handcuffs and I'll be damned if they aren't all aware of the danger she poses to our organization, to our nation and to our world. Fitz-Simmons, turn the Thread back on, May and Coulson, go take the Black Widow into custody and take her here as soon as possible. Sharon, you come with me.”

“Hill, what if we're met with resistance?” Coulson asked.

Maria turned back and hesitated for a moment. Her eyes dropped down, then moved back again. She straightened her shoulders, and made her decision.

“Bring her in. If she refuses, there'll be no doubt which side she's on. I'm positive she won't blow up her cover, so for now just make up an excuse and get her to this lab.”

Without adding anything else, she turned around and left the room.

  


Natasha knocked on Fury's office and waited for his invitation to walk in, before doing just that, closing the door back behind herself.

“I have another solo mission for you, Romanoff.”

Natasha nodded.

“The last one, before we close off this whole thing with the Red Room and you can go back to routine missions in the present with Barton.”

Natasha nodded again. She started to gear up and changed into her pedestrian clothes as Fury debriefed her on the mission details. When she was done, she raised her wrists towards him. But then, at the last second, she lowered them back again before Fury could take the handcuffs off.

“Sir, can I ask you something?”

“If it's within your clearance level.”

Natasha wasn't sure if he was joking or not. “Why did you always send me alone? From the very start? You could have send another agent.”

Fury hummed, then nodded. “I could have, yes. But, unlike the Red Room, we rely on trust, not on control, to keep our agents on our side. When I send another agent with you, it's always about protecting you, like in Moscow or in Budapest, and never about monitoring you.”

Natasha thought about his choice of words for a couple of seconds. She raised his wrists again and let Fury take the handcuffs off.

“When I first saw you, you looked like a kid to me. Sure, a kid who had seen too much shit, but still a kid. The woman in those legends, it was easy thinking about her as some heartless, cold, ruthless devil. It wasn't as easy, when you were brought in front of me. After your re-conditioning, I thought it would be good for you to use your powers without someone constantly aiming a gun at your head. We only ever get to know ourselves, while becoming ourselves.”

“It was a big risk.”

“Only if I was wrong.”

Natasha hummed and smiled a little.

Her last jump alone. Fury knew how close May and Coulson were getting. He probably knew Maria was joining the quest to prove her evil. By then, Fitz-Simmons probably managed to get the uncut version of the surveillance videos. This was the time to say her goodbyes.

There was a knock on the door. Fury sat down the handcuffs on his desk, taking a step away from Natasha, then invited whomever was knocking to come in.

“Sir, we have an emergen-” as soon as Maria registered Natasha's presence, she stopped dead in her tracks. She immediately noticed her handcuffs were off, so she took a hold of her gun and aimed it towards Natasha. “Don't make a move. Sir, you have to put her handcuffs back on.”

“Hill, what the hell is going on,” Fury said, his eye moving from Maria to Natasha, then back to Maria.

“Sir, we checked her jumps. She's been cheating on her trips, she's been going to New York, she can double jump when she's already inside another jump, if she could triple jump or, or quadruple jump and so on, she could be gone for a few seconds in the present but she could be virtually gone for years.”

“Romanoff, is this true?”

Natasha put her hands up and took half a step back. “Sir, I wasn't doing anything that would endanger missions or-”

“What were you doing then?” Maria asked harshly.

“I was going back for personal reasons. You know what I was doing, Maria. You know where I was, whom I was with,” Natasha answered just as decisively.

“You went back to Giza! To Beijing!” Maria accused her, “Red Room’s key cities, and for some reason, two of the very few jumps we could trace led there!”

“I was seeing the Pyramids! China's Great Wall,” she explained. “I wanted to see things I never saw before. I was never allowed time to travel in the Red Room, not if it wasn't a mission, not by myself. And it's not like S.H.I.E.L.D. is very different; I've only seen this damn Helicarrier except for the disaster that was Budapest,” Natasha tried to reason with her.

“You expect me to believe you?” Maria scoffed. “You've been lying again and again.. This whole time, you've been deceiving us. You're going back into the Web Thread until we can figure out if you're really on our side.”

Natasha scoffed at her and turned to Fury.

“Sir, you knew this. You had to know I would do this.”

Fury hummed and lowered his eye. “I'm the frog, you're the-”

“-spider?”

“-scorpion,” he said, quoting the old animal fable. “I tried to carry you across the lake, knowing you could do this and ruin your life and my career.”

“I'm a Black Widow, sir” Natasha shrugged. “This is my nature,”

Fury hummed again. “When you asked me to jump, to go away on a personal matter, what did I do, Agent Romanoff?”

Natasha hesitated a little, “You sent me.”

“When you asked me to be sent away from the Helicarrier so you could be on the ground, just so you could see a little of the world like you always wanted to, what did I do?”

“You sent me,” she replied, her voice quieter.

“And when you asked me to send you and Agent Hill away together on a personal matter?”

“You-”

“I sent you. Damn right, I did. I never kept you here as a prisoner. We helped you escape the Red Room, we helped you get rid of their brainwashing, we helped you see the world you longed so much to see. Still, you are free to walk out of this Helicarrier the second you decide to do so. As per your contract. The handcuffs stay on, as long as your location is known to us at all times, you are free.”

“With all due respect, sir, I appreciate what you did for me. Greatly. Endlessly. But if I stay here, I get to use my power every once in awhile, even if it's just to do your bidding. And I wouldn't really be free if I'm not able to use my power at all,”

“The hell she's free to walk,” Maria cut in. “I'm in charge of her and as long as her story hasn't been checked, she's going back into the Web Thread.”

Natasha looked at her, then at Fury. She smiled a little, then turned back to Maria.

“Don't you dare jump, Romanoff.” Maria's voice was firm and steady, but not loud.

“I have to say goodbye,” she tried to explain herself.

“If you jump,” Maria continued, “I'll shoot right at you. The bullet will hit you on your jump back, or if you're not back when it hits the wall behind you, I'll keep shooting and shooting.”

Natasha smiled again and shook her head. “No, you won't,”

“Natasha, don't you dare jump!” Maria's voice was again firm, steady, but this time, it was loud.

Natasha shrugged and kept the smile firm in place. “You know I will,”

Maria's eyes held a storm. But she knew what was about to happen. She knew there was no other way it could go.

“This is my nature,”

She didn't shoot when Natasha jumped. Of course she didn't. She swore and put her gun back into its holster, before picking up the handcuffs from Fury's desk.

“She'll be back in twenty-four seconds max and I'll have these back on her wrists immediately. Then, I'm taking her to the Web Thread, until we figure out if she's on our side or not.”

Fury nodded. “You're in charge of the team again. Figure this out quickly. There's a war coming with the Red Room, we can't afford internal conflict, too.”

Maria nodded. “Yes, sir.”

She turned to the point where Natasha had disappeared a moment before. And they waited for those few seconds that seemed like an eternity in Maria's mind.

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought! Reminder that if you want to you can always come chat with me on Tumblr!


	22. Kronos and Kairos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 2007, March 8th-9th : The Black Widow turns herself in and is brought to the Helicarrier  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2007, April 16th -19th: Natasha jumps to 2001 and meets Maria on March, June and September  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2007, April 23rd: Natasha goes to August 17th, 2002 and meets Maria after her first tour  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2007, April 28th: Natasha visits Maria in September, 2002, after her tour in Iraq  
>  |  
>  ○ → 2007, April 29th: Natasha's jumps are discovered by Maria's team; she makes one last jump to the past

  


  


[October 1st, 2002 – New York City]

Natasha walked to a public phone while fidgeting with the little piece of paper in her hand. Was it really the right thing to do? To call Maria, meet with her, only to inevitably say goodbye?

She left a note last time she was there – ten days had passed for Maria since then. Maybe it was best to leave it at that. She wrote down “Please take care of yourself” with her signature at the end. It wasn't much but at least it wasn't some lie about some mission somewhere so far away that she didn't know when or even if she would ever come back. Except, this time she did know, she was never coming back. S.H.I.E.L.D. would never let her.

Maybe going back to see Maria again one last time hadn’t been wise. A half-goodbye hurriedly written on a note was still better than a blatant lie told face to face, wasn't it?

She looked down at the phone number that had been in her pedestrian jacket pocket since Maria had given it to her, and she thought about that smile, those eyes that she’d memorised by heart. She had to see Maria again. One last time. Maria deserved a proper goodbye. She deserved to know that Natasha wasn't coming back.

She picked the public phone and dialed the number without giving herself a chance to rethink that decision. One ring. Two rings. Then a quiet and meek, “Hello?”

“Maria? Hey, it's Natasha.”

“Nat? Hey, I didn't think I'd hear from you so soon.”

“I'm in town and I wanted to see you if you don't have plans already. Dinner? My treat.”

“Sounds perfect.”

They agreed on a restaurant and decided to meet there. Natasha was there ten minutes earlier, and waited for Maria outside the place so she could greet her properly with a hug. But when Maria stepped out of the taxi, her bright smile sent Natasha's polite intentions out of the window and as soon as they were within reach from each other, they met halfway for a brief but meaningful kiss on the lips.

“Hi.”

“Hi yourself, gorgeous. Found a nice apartment yet?”

“Oh, the best one. I'm going to tell you all about it at dinner.”

Maria was wearing a light blue shirt and a gray vest and Natasha had a hard time focusing on anything else but the woman in front of her. It took her twenty minutes to order, because she just couldn't focus at the menu long enough to pick something out.

“I called the number you left on my bedside table at the hotel,” Maria told her after the waiter took their order.

“The psychiatrist?”

Maria nodded. “I saw her on Friday. I'm going to see her again next week.”

“That's good, Maria. It can really help,” Natasha told her, feeling a little bit hypocritical since she showed up to four of her sessions with the psychiatrist S.H.I.E.L.D. assigned her and then bailed entirely.

“It is. Helping,”

Of course, Natasha knew now that Maria's brain worked differently than other people. Her hormones and neurochemicals would set themselves back to a perfect level soon enough, and she wouldn't have to deal with panic attacks or PTSD – probably, she wasn't really sure how Healers' brains worked, she just knew they were usually very healthy people, both physically and mentally. But that didn't mean Maria hadn't been through all that stuff. So it was good for her to get it off her chest, to talk about it with someone, process the pain and loss in a healthy way.

“I'm really glad to hear that.”

Maria smiled, then tried to change the topic very quickly. “So, how was your week?”

Natasha chuckled, then sighed a little. “You would not believe the week I had at work.”

Maria narrowed her eyes at her, trying to keep her smile hidden. “Try me.”

“It's a very long story and we could both be arrested if I did,” she said very enigmatically.

Maria hummed, unconvinced. “Alright, then. Tell me something else. Tell me about your best friend.”

Natasha chuckled at the random question. “Well, let's see. He's an agent, too. He has a very good aim. He's a giant dork and once, after almost dying, he used his first breath after regaining consciousness to say the words 'I told you so' to me. Men,” Natasha faked annoyance and rolled her eyes.

Maria smiled at that description. “He sounds nice.”

“Tell me about-” Natasha was about to ask back. Then she realized Carter wasn't in the picture yet, so Maria's best friend was probably then man who lost two limbs in Iraq. And a fancy dinner didn't seem like the best of time to be bringing that up. “About the apartment. What is it like?”

“Oh, I think you'll like it.” Maria spent a few minutes describing the place, as the ate.

After dinner, they took a cab to Maria's apartment, so Natasha could see for herself how accurate Maria's description had been. It was an open space apartment, with a kitchen island between the cooking area and the living room area, where a couch, an armchair, and a TV where located. Between the couch and the TV there was a coffee table. The place was clean and ordered. Natasha wouldn't expect anything else from Maria, to be fair.

The bedroom and the bathroom were cozy and Natasha could finally notice Maria's style around them. It wasn't an hotel room, so her personal touch was all over the place. It made her feel happily dizzy in a confusing way. That was a home. She was in Maria's home.

She approached the living room window, glancing at the city below them with all its chaos and noises... It seemed so far away from them. It was quiet in the apartment, the only noise being Maria pouring them tea.

Maria Hill drinking tea seemed like such a soft thing to be seeing. She was still so young, Natasha could see it clearly every time she stopped to admire her features. She'd been through the army and she'd had her losses, her traumas, but she was only just twenty years old. She was light-years away from the woman Maria would eventually become. Yet, every time Natasha saw her, she was becoming closer to that.

Maria laid both mugs on the coffee table and then walked to Natasha, who turned back again to look out the window, hugging her from behind.

“What are you thinking about?” Maria asked softly, her lips brushing the skin of Natasha's shoulder ever so gently.

“I like this place. It's so you,” she smiled, her hand reaching around to caress Maria's hair. As the chuckle escaping the brunette's lips danced on the shell of Natasha’s ear, it sent a slight shiver down her spine. Natasha’s other hand caressed Maria’s arm wrapped around her waist and she sighed contentedly, but almost immediately, the realization that she was there to say goodbye to Maria drowned her good mood in its waves.

She closed her eyes and tried to replace the sad thought with the feeling of Maria's forehead gently touching her own temple.

“Whatever is bothering you... just say it, Nat.”

“Well,” she took a deep breath, “I have a mission coming up...” There was a change in her tone when she spoke. Maria knew she was all business now, all formalities and talk only when she used that voice. There was no room for feelings anymore. “It's kind of a big thing, I might be gone for a long time.”

“I figured. You were in town more often lately and I gathered you were either finishing a mission up or starting a new one soon,” Maria's voice had a sad edge, but she was desperately trying to keep it in check.

“New one. I leave tomorrow, actually,” she lied.

“Wow. That's soon.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's alright. I get it, Nat. Work is work,” Maria said, kissing her temple. There was a long pause, and Natasha felt that whatever she might say next wouldn't be the right thing. “Maybe it's for the best,” was definitely not what she expected Maria to say, though. “I mean, you seem to care about your work so much, and if this is such a big mission it might open up a lot of new doors for you, I guess. And I've been talking about my life with that psychiatrist you pointed me to and she seems to think some stability in my life might be due.”

“Some stability?”

“Yeah. I mean, every accommodation I've ever had was temporary. I wanted to leave my father's house since I was little. Then as soon as I went to live with my grandma she got sick. Then I lived in group homes until I was eighteen. Then the army. None of that it's really a long term plan. I think I need one of those now.”

Natasha frowned and slipped away from Maria's arms, taking a few steps away from her.

“Okay,” she stated carefully and slowly. “It seems like you had this all figured out already.” Her voice came colder than she intended to.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I don't know, Maria. I came here to talk to you and I was so worried you'd be mad I was leaving but,” she chuckled ironically, “you're fine with me getting the hell out of your life.”

“It seems like you're not fine with you leaving,” Maria pointed out. “And you know that's not it at all. Of course I wish you could stay, Natasha, but 'm not gonna get in the way of you doing your job. What did you expect me to say? Beg you to quit a job that you love and stay with me instead? I can't do that, Nat. I won't.”

“I know, I just- I didn't think you'd be so adamant about having me gone so you could- I don't know, date a nice average person and settle down for some stability, that's all.”

Maria laughed and took a couple steps towards Natasha, then held her hands in hers.

“You know that's not what I meant. I rented an apartment. I accepted a stable job. But you know there's only one person I'd ever buy that big house with, that house with the patio, the swing, a dog and a cat.”

Natasha finally looked up into Maria's soft and honest eyes and for a moment she revelled in those words.

“But you're not there. You're not done with those long, risky missions that take you away from here for months on end. You're not done with that life. Not yet, at least,” Maria smiled softly and Natasha felt unmistakably that Maria understood her in a way nobody else ever did or ever could.

“You're right. I'm not there yet. I just wish the world could just slow down for a minute, you know? I just wish I could stay here for a while.”

“Well,” Maria smiled at her reassuringly, “maybe when you're done with this mission, maybe you'll come back and take some time off work and we could go to Rome. A girl once told me it's the most romantic city in the world.”

Natasha smiled back. “That seems like a lifetime ago.”

Maria nodded her agreement. “I'll find my stability. You complete this mission. And maybe someday our paths will cross again and we'll be together for more than a day or two, we'll see the world, be at peace for a little while,” Maria said half hopeful, half sad.

“Maybe someday. Yes. Maybe someday our paths will cross again and we can be happy then,” Natasha lied. Because she knew what was going to happen to them. What was going to be of them once their paths did cross again.

“Hey,” Maria gently lifted her chin and made her meet her eyes, then smiled gently. “We can be happy right now,” she said, kissing her gently on the lips.

Natasha framed Maria's face with her hands and gently touched Maria's forehead with her own. She wanted, more than anything, she could have that. That time to be herself, to be with Maria, to travel and see the world. Instead, all that was left for her, was goodbye.

  


Maria was still asleep by the time she was ready to leave. She looked back when she was on the bedroom doorstep. Maria was still enough to leave her breathless, even then, hair a mess and slightly snoring.

“So this is it. This is how I lose her,” Natasha thought.

She'd never been great with words. They said what they had to, and showed each other what they couldn't say. She hoped that it would be enough, eventually. That Maria could forgive her someday, somehow.

She closed the door quietly behind her, walked out of the building and into the nearest desert alley she could find. For a second, she just stood there, shoulders pressed against a dirty wall, trying to catch her breath.

She had been gone for twelve hours. Twelve seconds in the present. It was half her time jump range, she could still use those other twelve hours to double jump. Virtually, she could stay with Maria for a really long time, as long as she kept jumping vertically from meeting to meeting.

But it wouldn't be fair.

Maria had made it clear she needed stability. Happiness. Freedom.

Maria's words from the previous night rang in her ears loud and clear. “We can be happy right now,” she had said. What if Commander Hill never forgave her? What if the past was all they would ever get together, and it was over?

She took her head into her hands, breathed deeply, and knew that it couldn't be over yet. It couldn't, there was still so much they had to do. What about Paris, what about Italy, what about all those firsts they were never going to get?

And what about all those lasts Natasha didn't realize were lasts?

What if she never got to kiss Maria again? Or hold her hand? Or make her laugh with some silly wordplay?

She stood there, eyes closed, head leaning on the wall behind her, hesitating. But her decision was already taken. She knew her path. She knew what she had to do.

  


[October 31st, 2002 – New York City]

Natasha was a little anxious as she knocked on the door. She told Maria she wouldn't be back for a long time, but there she was, a month later. She thought it was a reasonable time to use as an excuse for a mission gone awry and wrapped up quickly.

The door opened and she found herself face to face with a very surprised Maria.

“Trick or treat?” She joked as soon as the door was open. Only after the words left her mouth she took a proper look at Maria.

“Nat.”

“Oh my- wow.”

Maria was obviously about to head out. Probably to a Halloween party. Because, Natasha was fairly sure, she was wearing a costume.

“Rosie the Riveter? Wow,” was the only thing Natasha could think of saying.

“You're back.”

“Mission went FUBAR. I was sent right back. I'm sorry, you were obviously going out. And I'm here for the week so if you want me to go and just call you tomorrow or-”

Maria took her hand and pulled her in. “Just come inside. I was going to a super lame Halloween party hosted by the brother of my boss.”

As soon as the door was closed behind them, Maria turned around and hugged her for a long moment.

“I've missed you,” Natasha whispered.

“I've missed you, too. I didn't know if you'd come back to me,” Maria whispered back.

“For real, though, if you wanna go to that party-”

“Natasha I have something very serious to ask you, and I want you to focus for a second,” Maria told her, backing away from the hug, but holding Natasha's hand in hers and looking at her with serious eyes.

Natasha got serious, but nodded. “Okay.”

“Do you like horror movies?”

Her eyebrows slowly raised up and she quirked one upper than the other, slowly, looking Maria in the eyes with a bemused expression.

“Well, I might. I've never seen one.”

Maria's gasp was much more dramatic than needed. “Well, it's settled then. I'll make us some popcorn, while you pick a movie. There's a blanket on the couch if you get cold, the remote is on the coffee table.”

“Are you sure you don't wanna go to that party, Masha?”

Maria smiled at her in a way that made Natasha feel like the world – no, the whole universe – wasn't worth half as much as that moment.

“I'm sure. I'd rather stay here, with you.”

Natasha knew she made the right choice.

  


The next morning, Maria woke up to an empty bed. She hoped – after Natasha came back, after cuddling on the couch, laughing at the ridiculously bad movie Natasha picked, she dared to hope that things would be different. She had held hope Natasha would stay. Not for long, but at least long enough to say goodbye. She learned quickly it wasn't Natasha's strong suit, but still, she hoped she wouldn't disappear without as much as a warning.

She got up and threw on the first half-sleeved T-shirt she located, then walked into the kitchen, reaching for a glass of water.

She stopped mid-step when she saw Natasha putting some scrambled eggs in two plates.

“Oh, good, you're up. I made breakfast. And I didn't burn anything, food, myself, nor anything else,” she looked more impressed with herself than she probably should have.

“You made me breakfast,” was the only thing Maria managed to say.

“Oh, no, this isn't for you, I just made myself two plates because of my fast metabolism,” Natasha explained with a straight face.

Maria frowned and gave her a doubtful look. The redhead just smirked at her and sat down, grabbed a fork and started eating. Maria sat in front of her but didn't pick up her fork. Natasha just rolled her eyes.

“Come on, you know I was messing with you.”

“I know, but I remember that time you helped me cook lasagna and I'm not sure this beacon won't kill me, so maybe I'll wait until you've digested it.”

“Hey, I'm offended, your breakfast is revoked. I'll eat all of this on my own, you can eat the paper-tasting cereals I found in the cupboard.”

Maria tried to look hurt, but couldn't fake it for too long before a chuckle escaped her lips. She picked up the fork and took a bite of the eggs, then tasted the beacon.

“This is actually really good, babe. Thank you.”

Natasha smiled to herself, then dived back into her food.

After they were done with breakfast, Maria washed the dishes. Or at least, she tried. Because Natasha just stood there, sitting on the counter, wearing nothing but underwear. They decided the dishes could definitely wait.

  


They went to two different museums, one in the morning, one right after lunch, then sat down in a park, on one of the benches, talking about whatever crossed their minds. Until, inevitably, the question came.

“So, how long are you in town for?”

“I don't know. Sick of me already? I can rent a room in a hotel, or go to one of our safe houses, Maria, just say the word.”

“You know you can stay with me as long as you want, Nat. It's not why I asked. Don't you have an apartment, by the way? I mean, there's gotta be a city you consider home.”

Natasha frowned and really gave it some thought before she was able to come up with an answer. “Not really. There's my parents' house, that's still mine I guess, but I'm not going back there. And lately I've been moving around so much, it feels like I live up in the sky.”

Maria chuckled, despite how serious Natasha was. “Alright, then,” she said when she realized there wasn't a 'but' coming anytime soon. “You can consider my apartment your place if you want to. You can come there whenever you like, for as long as you like. I'd give you a key, but let's be honest, you'd lose it and then pick the lock anyway, so you can just do that instead.”

That was the right thing to say to make Natasha relax again and laugh lightly at the joke. “Thank you, Masha. I mean it.”

Maria smiled, took her hand, then kissed her softly on the lips.

“There's a coffee shop nearby that I think you'll like. Awesome apple pie. Wanna go check it out?” Maria suggested.

“Sure,” Natasha nodded and got up. They walked down the street hand in hand and Natasha started noticing that the street they were walking down was a familiar one. “You're such a hopeless romantic, Hill. Our coffee shop?”

“Seven o'clock, just like old times.”

Natasha smiled, hugged her arm, and let Maria led her inside.

  


The next day they visited the Modern Art Museum and Maria told her she was starting to be at a loss of touristy places to bring Natasha to. She didn't know New York that well, as she hadn't really lived there for that long.

“I've got an idea,” seemed like such an innocent thing for Natasha to say.

That was how they found themselves in front of the Belvedere Castle. And it was also how Natasha convinced Maria to go to the New York Botanical Garden.

“I feel like we're covering all the tourist traps too quickly, what am I gonna show you the next time you come by?”

Natasha's smirk told her the joke was coming even before it was out of her lips. “I'm more than happy if all you show me is your bedroom.”

Maria snorted and rolled her eyes. “You're impossible.”

“Fine. Then let's go to Italy next time I'm off work. Ask the General or whomever for a leave of absence and let's go.”

“Really?”

“Yes, whenever you can get the time off, I'll make sure to be free as well.”

“Well, okay. I mean, I'd love that. I'll see if I can get some days off. I'm actually still due a lot of vacations from the army and West Point is definitely doing fine without me, so...” she shrugged.

“Awesome. See? You won't have to come up with endless tourist things for me, I can do that myself,” Natasha smiled and winked at her.

Maria rolled her eyes again. “Let's go eat something, I'm starving. And you'll stop being a smartass when your mouth is full, so it's a win on both fronts.”

  


They spent Sunday in bed, lazily talking and making out, both of them content to just lay together and relax for the day.

Natasha used the bathroom as her point of extraction when she needed to end the current jump and go back to the alley, then jumped back in as if she never left, earning more and more hours as only a few seconds passed on her first jump.

As the weekend was coming to an end, though, she knew she would have to leave. At least for a while. She couldn't be a constant presence in Maria's life; it was too risky. She already had to turn a blind eye three times when Maria got casually injured and wasn't anymore a second later. While it wouldn't do much harm if Maria slipped and told her about her secret, Natasha couldn't afford the same luxury. She had to put some time and distance between them, jump a little ahead so that the situation didn't get much too comfortable that she forgot it was all just temporary.

Still, that Sunday was one of the best days of her life. And they mostly stayed in bed. But Maria was there, her voice was soothing, her hands were soft, her arms were safe. And her lips were heavenly; her eyes were a special kind of Paradise.

“Time feels different when I'm with you,” Natasha confessed.

“Different how?”

“You make one second feel like a lifetime, like everything that matters is right there, contained in one single moment. And at the same time, you make me feel like eternity wouldn't be a long enough time if I got to spend it with you.”

Maria smiled softly and brushed her thumb on Natasha's cheek, tracing her lips. “I feel like that, too, when I'm with you.”

“You know, the Ancient Greeks had two words for time. Kronos and Kairos. Kronos was the passing time, the minutes, the hours, the days. Kairos meant something different. It's not a pre-determined period, but it indicates a span of time in which something special happens. So, that would mean there's a time when something happens, but there's also the right time for something to be happening.”

“And you don't think this is our right time? You think this is our Kronos, but not our Kairos?” Maria asked her.

“This is our perfect time. I wish I could stay in this Kairos, in this span of time forever, Maria. But time keeps going, it never stops. Whatever might happen next, Masha, this was our perfect time. And I'll never forget this, I'll never forget how you make me feel and how much you mean to me.”

“I'll never forget either, Nat. I thought you knew- I thought it was obvious. How I feel about you.”

Natasha looked into her blue eyes and all thoughts about how the two weeks they spent together in Natasha's timeline weren't enough for her brain to start producing the right neurochemicals to make her feel the same. But when the next words slipped from Maria's lips, she knew, instantly, that nevertheless, she did feel exactly how she should.

“I love you, Natasha.”

What she answered wasn’t a lie.

“I love you, too.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So turned out one jump wasn't enough for Natasha to say goodbye. Let me know what you thought. Love to you all <3


	23. A Moment, A Year, A Lifetime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 2007, April 29th: Natasha's jumps are discovered by Maria's team; she stays in the past for longer than she initially intended to

  


  
** [November 15th, 2002 – New York City]**

Natasha left Maria with the promise of returning in a few days and immediately jumped forward so she could go meet her again.

She knocked on her apartment door, but there was no answer, so she picked the lock – as Maria herself suggested she would do – and let herself in. She laid down on the couch and closed her eyes for just one second, feeling the tiredness of the past few days downing on her.

When she opened her eyes again, a delicious smell filled her nostrils. Her stomach roared loudly and she realized why she woke up. Rubbing her eyes, she brought herself in a sitting position and peeked towards the kitchen, spotting the brunette at the stove.

She smiled softly and watched as Maria cooked. She rolled her eyes when Maria slightly burned her finger to grab the pan and her hand immediately healed. What if, instead of her, it was someone else? She realized, Maria wouldn't have been that comfortable if it was someone else, sleeping on her couch.

She got up and walked silently to the kitchen, hugging Maria from behind.

“Hey there, sleepyhead.”

“You could have woken me up,” Natasha murmured in a sleepy voice, one hand on Maria's abdomen as her arm hugged her close, the other rubbing the sleep from her own eyes. “Sorry for the intrusion.”

“You're never intruding, sweetheart,” Maria turned her head and torso so she could kiss Natasha's forehead. “It was the best surprise.”

Natasha smiled and moved her chin upwards, pulling at Maria's shirt until she bent down and planted a kiss on her waiting lips.

“I made you lasagna.”

“You're my favorite person in the world.”

“Are you gonna stay the weekend?”

Natasha hummed and let go of Maria so she could circle her and look at her face to face. “I was thinking, if it's not a problem, I could stay four or five days. Get a room in a hotel or something.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. If you want to hang out we could do a food tour, instead of the museum tour we did last time I was here.”

Maria's eyes were filled with happiness and hope and all the stars in the galaxy. “You're not staying in a hotel. I'll handcuff you to the bed if I have to.”

Natasha smiled brightly. “I wanna taste thai food, so unless you know a really good delivery place, the roleplay will have to wait until tonight.”

“Natasha!”

“You knew that was coming. It's your own fault.”

Maria laughed and Natasha felt as light as a feather. Happiness was a marvelous thing.

  


“Paella is good and all, but those tacos were fantastic.”

“God, Natasha, this madness has to end. We've eaten more in the past two days than I have in the past two weeks. Have mercy, woman.”

“I have a fast metabolism!”

“Well, I have a normal one, so I think I'll pass on the churros.”

“But I wanna try one, I've never had one before!”

“And that's why we're walking to the best churros place in New York, but I'll just stand there and try not to puke while you eat.”

Natasha sighed over-dramatically. “Fine. I'll have to sacrifice myself and eat one for you as well, then.”

Maria snorted and shook her head. “Yep, tough luck.”

“Hey, I know a way you can burn calories quickly.”

“Really?” Maria gave her a flirty smile. “And what would that b- oh!”

Before Maria could even finish that sentence, Natasha jumped on her back.

“This wasn't really what I was expecting.”

“The world is very different from up here. I like it. I should climb you more often.”

Maria tried to hide a smile as an exaggerated annoyed sigh escaped her lips. “Just try not to fall, I'd hate to have to give you a piggy back ride to the hospital.”

“Shush, Masha. To the churros!” Natahsha pointed ahead and heard Maria sigh heavily again.

“You're suck a dork.”

“But I'm your dork.”

“Yeah,” Maria said softly, not even bothering to hide the smile gracing her lips. “You're my dork.”

  


**[November 27th, 2002 – New York City]**

Maria's Wednesday had been an absolute horror show.

The new recruits were awful and the few weeks they'd been in West Point had done nothing to improve their incompetence. Was she the same, a few years back, when she joined in? Was there a tired general or captain complaining about her team, too? She sighed as her keys slipped into her door.

When she walked in, she was surprised to find the apartment lit and a voice softly humming to television, which was set in radio mode.

And of all the things she envisioned she could be doing when she finally got home, watching Natasha Romanoff cook in her kitchen as she hummed to a Kelly Clarkson's song hadn't been on the list. It took her a long moment to recover from that image.

“You know, one of these days you're gonna come by unannounced and the door chain is going to be in place.”

“As if a chain could keep me away from you,” Natasha countered with a devilish smile. “How was your day?”

Maria sighed and made a face, but then quickly shrugged it off. “It's just got a lot better.”

She walked to Natasha and took her hand gently, leading her away from the stove.

“What are you doing, I'm trying to make you zharkoye.”

Maria kissed her; she took her into her arms, hugged her gently, and kissed her. The touch of her soft lips was enough to take her breath away and made her feel like, suddenly, the rest of the world didn't matter, or didn't even exist anymore. All that mattered was them, that moment, that kiss.

“Hi.”

“Hi, gorgeous.”

“I'm really glad you're here. Also, I'm really glad you cooked, 'cause I'm starving.”

Natasha smiled. She would tell Maria she was only there for the evening, but they would make the most of what they had.

She knew she couldn't let her visits be too long – at least not all of them, and they couldn't be too close to one another, because she wouldn't be able to stay permanently. But she could give Maria some stability, and she could surprise her, make her swoon, make her happy.

And it was exactly was she was going to do.

  


****

[December 3rd, 2002 – New York City]

Natasha called a couple of days ahead and properly asked Maria out. She made a reservation at her favorite Italian place, nothing too fancy but still sophisticated. She rented a car and bought flowers – at Red Room's expenses, so she technically wasn't robbing neither S.H.I.E.L.D. nor the American Government, only an evil organization that was going to be dismantled in a few years.

Then, on the 3rd, at seven o'clock, she parked in front of Maria's building.

She didn't know why she felt nervous, it was just a date with Maria. Maybe it was the doubt she did too much. What if Maria didn't even remember? She glanced at the flowers laid down carefully on the back seat and grimaced. Well, if Maria didn't remember she would hide those, she would just say she felt in the mood for a proper date.

She didn't need a special occasion to ask Maria on a date, did she?

The passenger door opened and a stunned Maria walked in and looked around, softly touching the dashboard, then turned to Natasha.

“This is a Corvette.”

Natasha smirked. “I love when you're so enchanted by something that you start pointing out the obvious. Like you did when I rented you that Ducati.”

“Well, are you going to let me drive this, too?” Maria asked, with her best smile.

“We'll see,” Natasha said, with a teasing smirk.

As she started driving, she heard Maria clear her voice and then trying to use a casual tone as she said, “Oh, by the way, I almost forgot,” while searching in her pants pocket, “I have something for you. I mean, I don't want to make this weird, so if you were just in the mood to rent a Corvette and make a reservation at my favorite restaurant, that's cool and feel free to do that as often as you'd like. But in case you remembered too-”

“It's been two year since we met,” Natasha ended her rant.

“Yeah. Anyway, here,” Maria gave her a plain black tiny object.

“A flashdrive? You're so romantic.”

“Yep. That's it. An empty flashdrive 'cause FBI has got none of those.”

Natasha laughed and took Maria's hand after pocketing the small object.

  


**[December 4th, 2002 – New York City]**

She waited until Maria left for work, then she opened her computer and inserted the flashdrive Maria had given her the night before.

She didn't know what she expected to find, but it definitely wasn't what was inside.

There were three audio files and a video.

She sorted them by date, put on her earphones, and opened the oldest one. Maria's voice immediately filled her ears.

“So, it's New Years Eve and we're officially in 2002. I don't know when I'm coming back, but you made me promise I would, so I just wanted to say I'm hanging on. It's only been a couple of months, but Afghanistan is very far from- well, wherever you are right now. Everybody is sending letters or calling home, and I don't have your number or email, so I'm recording this in case I ever see you again, and I can give this to you then. Anyway,” there was a brief pause. “Happy New Year. I hope you're smiling and you're so happy it feels like your heart is pounding out of your chest.”

The recording wasn't perfectly clean, it was obviously made on a recorder and not on a phone, as it was taken in 2002, but it was still perfectly understandable and it was Maria's voice.

She thought back to 2002 and she remembered being brought back to the Red Room in March, when she turned into an Inhuman. New Year's Eve, 2002? She was married to Shostakov. She was with him the exact moment Maria was recording that message. The thought was so unsettling that she felt the need to puke.

She opened the second one.

“Hi there! So, I came back and it's seven o'clock and still, no sign of you. I'm going out with some of the guys but I felt like I needed to record this, maybe just so I could hear it myself. I came back, Natasha. I made it back in one piece. And I'm going back soon, but I hope I'll get to see you before I leave again. Anyway, sorry for the tired voice and I hope you're well.”

Maria came back in August 2002. Natasha was doing missions for the Red Room. And Maria was thinking of her.

The third one was a video. When she clicked on it, a man appeared. He was sitting in a chair, Natasha noticed he only had one leg.

“Ian. Hey, Ian. Ian.”

“Are you recording me with that new camera? Put that down, Maria, we're fishing.”

“Ian, say hi to Natasha.”

“Hi to Natasha,” he parroted.

“You're a jerk. Anyway,” the angle switched and Maria's smile appeared on the screen. “My new camera not only takes pictures, but it makes videos, too. Technology, right?” Maria scoffed. “Then what, our phones will make videos too? That'd be some crazy shit.”

The camera turned again and there was a panoramic on the lake. Maria's and Ian's voices could still be heard even if they weren't on the screen.

“Are you done making videos for your hostess girlfriend?”

“I never said she's a hostess, dude.”

“Well, she's always travelling, what else could she be, a spy? Come on, dude. Put that away.”

“Fine. But I'm gonna tell you all about our food marathon. She made me eat my weight in nachos, I swear to God.”

Natasha laughed and smiled and felt a warm, happy feeling, knowing Maria and Ian started talking again and were closer than ever.

She opened the last audio, not knowing what to expect, since the video itself was so recent.

“Hey, Nat. I don't know why I'm recording this, since you're picking me up for our date in a little bit, but I wanted to add something recent to the other files. And what's more recent than right now, right? Anyway, I just wanted to say that I feel so lucky, so incredibly lucky, to have found you. All of time and space and not only we're alive at the same time, but we were also able to find each other. This has got to be some kind of miracle. I know we've only known each other for two years and we've only seen each other a dozen times, but I- well, I sometimes think about that place you described to me. That house with the beach and the patio? Honestly, I don't know if we'll ever get there,” there was a small pause, “or if that place will always only exist in our hearts.” There was a longer pause. “But I do know, as long as you're with me, as long as you're my secret harbour and I'm your safe place, that we're going to be alright.”

Natasha knew it, too. As long as they had time, everything was going to be perfect.

  


**[December 24th, 2002 – New York City]**

It was barely past midnight when Natasha made her way past the front door. It hadn't even been Christmas Eve for an hour yet, but down in the streets, the mood was already strong and settled. She was never one for holidays, but she expected Maria to have at least some sort of decoration around, something different from the last time she was there, that would have made it clear the house was adorned for the season. Maria was sipping white wine on the couch, she barely turned to check it wasn't an intruder, then turned back to the television to pause the series she was watching.

“What's wrong?” She frowned, slightly concerned, when she saw Natasha looking around like she wasn't even recognizing the apartment.

“Maria, you do know it's Christmas in twenty-four hours, don't you?”

Maria rolled her eyes, and got up from the couch with a smile on her lips. “Glad to see you back after twenty days, it's been a while this time.” She walked past Natasha, giving her a kiss on the lips on her way to the kitchen. She returned after fetching a glass of wine for Natasha to match her own.

“So you do know what day it is. Christmas Eve and all that?”

“Not a fan.”

“Of Jesus?”

“Of decorating.”

“Right. But I mean, not even a miniature plastic tree on the coffee table?”

Maria resumed her place on the couch, settled the blanket back on her feet, and shrugged. “I wasn't really in a Christmas-y mood, lately.”

Natasha took off her shoes and walked to the couch, sitting down next to Maria and taking a sip of the wine. “Any particular reason?”

“Well, it's a-” she cleared her voice “-family holiday. I guess, you know,” she hesitated and took a large sip from her glass. “The tree and everything, it's not really stuff one does alone or only for themselves to see? So I didn't see the point. Plus I kinda thought it'd be depressing.”

Natasha took her hand, silently encouraging her to go on, since she suspected that was only half the explanation.

“I used to make it with my grandma, every year she'd make me go to her place and help her. It's not a big deal, I just- I grow up thinking it's not something you do on your own, that's all.”

Natasha hummed and looked down at her glass for a moment.

“Okay then. I'm here now, so go get dressed.”

“What?”

“Go get dressed, I'll call us a cab, we're going tree-shopping.”

“Natasha, it’s past midnight, I don't think we'll find a tree tonight.”

“Well, not with that attitude! Come on, get dressed or I'll carry you to the cab in your pj's. We're going to get a tree so high that I'm going to have to climb you 'cause you won't be able to reach the top.”

Maria snorted, but when Natasha got up and stared down at her, hands on her hips, eyebrows raised, she begrudgingly got up and murmured “Fine,” on her way to the bedroom.

  


“And this is the only one you have left?” Maria asked again.

“It's Christmas Eve, ma'am.”

“Oh my God, it's Christmas Eve!” Natasha pretended to gasp.

Maria ignored her and smiled apologetically to the clerk. “I know, sir. Thank you for your time, I'm sorry if we came here after closing hour.”

“That's fine, we were celebrating going out of stock, it was a good year for us, so my brothers and I were still around,” he smiled politely and his eyes darted briefly to Natasha, who was still scrutinizing the tree. “Do you ladies want to stay for a beer?”

Maria was starting to politely decline, when Natasha turned towards them.

“We'll take this one.”

Maria snorted. “No, she's kidding. We're not paying for this tree, Natasha,” she scolded the red-head. “No offence,” she hurriedly added looking back at the clerk.

“None taken, as I was saying, we considered ourselves out of stock when you got here. This wasn't even really displayed.”

“Why? It's perfect,” Natasha said as a matter of fact. “How much?”

“Natasha, it's hardly five feet tall. It's so tiny, it doesn't look like a proper tree. It looks like a bonsai trying to be a Christmas tree.”

“Well, the bonsai deserves a home like all the other trees. Plus, it looks fine to me.”

“That's cause you're tiny, too. It's a Natasha-sized tree.”

Natasha looked at her immediately, an unimpressed look on her face. Her expression turned cold and daring. Maria swallowed hard, then she turned to the clerk.

“We would like to purchase that marvellous tree,” Maria said with a fake smile.

“You mean the bonsai tree, ma'am?” He was doing a poor job of keeping the smirk off of his face.

“It's the only one left so, yes, that one, please and thank you.”

  


Natasha, to her dismay, did not have to climb Maria to adorn the tree, but it didn't diminish the delight on her face as Maria watched her start decorating. A soft smile graced Maria's own lips as they started to work side by side. Her begrudging attitude had vanished when she had realized that it was probably Natasha's first Christmas tree. She couldn't be more honoured to be the one that Natasha did it with.

Natasha admired their work with a satisfied expression, “It's cute. For a bonsai tree.”

“It's perfect. You're perfect. Thank you.”

They sat down on the couch, in front of the tree, promising themselves it would be just for a few minutes, to admire their work. But it was much later then what they realized and, before they could make their way to the bedroom, they fell asleep.

  
They spent Christmas Eve with a marathon of dumb comedies as far away from the Christmas spirit as humanly possible, cooking together, talking and laughing about anything that crossed their minds. After dinner, Maria coerced her into seeing what she presented to Natasha as a modern masterpiece.

“You seem personally offended that I haven't seen any movies with that one actress.”

“Julia Roberts isn't just some actress, Natasha. And Erin Brockovich isn't just some film. So we're watching it right now.”

They were halfway into the movie and Maria was starting to contemplate murder upon hearing the sentence “I don't know why you like this Julienne Robbie so much, I just can't see it”, when she realized Natasha was smirking and trying very hard to hide it.

“You jerk, you were messing with me!”

“Maria, I've been kidnapped by an evil organization, not living under a rock. Of course I know who Julia Roberts is.”

“You're going to regret taking advantage of my good faith.”

Natasha chuckled, then glanced at Maria's phone silently lighting up. “Hey, Masha? It's past midnight. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Nat.”

Natasha snuggled closer and smiled. It never ceased to leave her breathless that life could come so easy and be so great. She was happy. She was free. Maria made her feel like everything else was unimportant and the only thing that mattered was the moment they were living. And it was the closest she ever felt to freedom in her life.

  


**[December 31st, 2002 – New York City]**

Natasha was very good at picking locks. Very good.

“Fuck, it's freezing.”

“That's why I made you bring the champagne, it'll warm us up.”

“I know something that might warm us up,” Maria whispered in her ear as she hugged Natasha from behind.

A smile spread on her lips as she felt Maria's lips on her own neck. “Save that for midnight, come on.”

Natasha led her by the hand, further away from the roof door and towards the edge. They looked down at the city, it was all so loud and bright on New Year's Eve. People were shouting and singing, they were at a dinner with some of Maria's colleagues, but as the clock neared the midnight, they decided to sneak out and go up to the roof.

“Look, we can see the ball at Time Square's from here.”

Natasha smirked. “I hoped so.”

“Wait, you wanted to go? You could have said that, we could have gone.”

“Masha, you're already freezing and we've been out here for three minutes,” Natasha chuckled lightly.

“I'd have dressed accordingly,” she pointed out.

“This was fun. A fancy dinner, champagne, you in a backless blue dress-”

“Having to introduce you as my friend to every person I work with,” Maria added bitterly.

Natasha turned to her, taking her hand. “What would you like to introduce me as?”

Maria smiled and looked at the city below them, ignoring the question. “Yep, such a nice view,” she murmured, trying to divert attention from the current topic at hand.

“Well, I'll tell you what. When you finally take that time off and we get to go to Paris, you can introduce me to anyone we meet however you want,” Natasha decided with a smirk. And maybe it was the wine, but she thought that, if Maria picked a label for them right then and there, she might be fine with that.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“However I want?”

“However you want, Masha,” Natasha whispered, getting closer and sliding into Maria's arms, gently tucking her hair behind her ear and looking up into her gorgeous eyes.

Maria bent down, brushing Natasha's nose with her lips, then kissing her cheek, then her lips, gently, just once. Natasha slid her arms around Maria's neck and got up on her toes, in an attempt to hug Maria even closer. Maria's arms lingered around her waist, caressing Natasha’s back tenderly as Maria kissed her again.

Natasha's hands cupped her face and she brought their lips together more firmly, tasting the sweetness of dessert and wine on Maria's lips.

Their foreheads touched and Maria's eyes were still closed when Natasha opened hers. Her thumb brushed the curves of Maria's cheekbone, her nose, her lips, her chin. 

Maria Hill was breathtakingly stunning, brave and fierce and fearless. 

When her eyes slowly opened and focused on Natasha's, the redhead almost felt her heart pick up its pace.

And it struck her, like lightning, that Maria pointing a loaded gun at her head didn't make her nervous. But just looking at her did. Just looking at how perfect the brunette was, made Natasha feel insane with fear of losing her.

She felt like breathing became hard and when she next spoke, her voice was barely audible.

“Maria, I'm in love with you.”

If possible, Maria's bright, happy smile made her feel even more out of breath.

“I'm in love with you too, Natasha.”

They lost themselves in each other's eyes for a long moment, then Natasha nuzzled her nose in Maria's neck and let herself be hugged. It was a strange feeling. She was never hugged quite as close and intimately before, yet she had never felt more comfortable.

“I think it's time,” Maria whispered. When Natasha tightened her hold, she felt Maria's chest vibrate with a light laugh. “No, baby, not to go back, I meant it's almost midnight. Yes, the ball is starting to drop now.”

Natasha turned her head and they watched as it descended. She listened to Maria's voice counting back, and they looked as the neon light were turned on and the giant year board was finally visible from where they were standing.

“Happy New Year,” Maria said, bowing her head to kiss Natasha without having to let her go.

Natasha smiled softly. “Happy New Year.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Let me know what you thought with a comment or on tumblr and I'll love you forever!


	24. Beyond the Realms of Possibility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 2007, April 29th: Natasha's jumps are discovered by Maria's team; she stays in the past for longer than she initially intended to

  


  
**[January 11th, 2003 – New York City]**

Maria had two groceries bags in one hand, trying to pick the right key with the other, while a third bag was squashed between that arm and her torso. She was not in a good mood. At all.

When she finally managed to open the door, she was greeted by the sounds of the television and realized that someone was inside. She closed the door behind herself and, as she’d expected, she spotted Natasha sitting on the couch flipping through channels. She sighed and threw her keys somewhere on the counter, while placing her grocery bags down on the kitchen island.

“Shoes off the coffee table, please.”

Natasha turned off the TV and walked towards her with a smile. “Hi. Sorry.”

“Hi. You're back.”

“I am. Ten days, it's not too bad.”

“Yeah, it's not. It’s almost like you didn't leave New York at all.”

Natasha frowned at Maria's tone. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” she sighed and raised her hands, shaking her head. “Nothing, just forget it.”

“It's obviously not nothing, Maria. Something is bothering you.”

“I just had a bad day and I'm really tired. I have to put this all away before the frozen stuff melts on the counter.”

“No, hey, let me take care of it, okay? Maybe you could take a bath, or relax however you want, and I'll take care of this and make some dinner, if you want me to stick around. Or I can go and maybe we can have a date tomorrow or next week.”

“You'll be in town for a while?”

“I don't know. Until-” until she felt like time was swallowing her up and she had to re-adjust her jump again. “Until they call me in for a mission. You know how it goes.” She hugged Maria from behind and dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “So? Bath?”

“I'd honestly love to, after the day I've had, but the bathtub needs fixing and I haven't gotten around to it yet-”

“Oh, I did it. I got here a couple of hours ago and saw the to do list on your fridge. I called a guy to fix that, I also bought a replacement lamp for the living room since I thought you wouldn't be too picky as long as it was similar to the old one. I was just done with the TV when you walked in actually, all the channels are visible again, my hacker skills came in handy.”

Maria turned in her arms and looked at her skeptically, “Really? You just came here and fixed everything?”

“Well, not everything, just a couple of pressing things. Now I'll take care of the groceries and you relax,” she instructed firmly. “What do you want for dinner?”

“We can order pizza. You can come join me when you're done with the groceries?”

Natasha smirked, “Sure. Give me a couple of minutes and I'll be there.”

“Thank you,” Maria whispered, kissing her lightly.

  


The water was slowly cooling down, but it was still warm and Maria's skin on hers was enough to make her feel comfortable. Her head was resting on Maria's shoulder as she was sitting between the brunette's legs, their left hands were intertwined while Maria's right one was softly caressing her hair.

“I'm sorry. For snapping at you.”

Natasha shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, but she didn't want to dismiss it either. “Want to talk about what was bothering you?”

“Just, you know, a stressful day at work.”

“Yeah, but what you said had to mean something,” she pointed out.

Maria shuffled a little behind her, so she could get more comfortable, and shifted her right hand to hold her closer. “It's just hard, sometimes. When you're gone, Natasha, you're really gone. It's like you don't exist once you step out of here. No calls, no texts, nothing for days or weeks. And for a while I thought you had this big missions and you would be undercover or something like that.”

“I feel like there's a but coming.”

“But,” Maria continued, “then you came here a few months ago, telling me you were going to be gone for a while and I felt like it was your way of breaking it off. But you came back. You kept coming back. And it's been wonderful, these past few months, but it just feels-”

“-unstable?”

Maria was silent for a long moment. “Yeah. It feels like your next big mission is going to come at some point and you'll be gone months, years. And you come here every other week, I don't really buy how you get so deep undercover so quickly that you aren't able to text or call. I know there's something else, but I know it's your life and it's not my business, I just-” she paused again and shook her head, unable to finish that train of thoughts. “Yeah, it feels unstable.”

“That's the opposite of what you wanted. Stability.”

“I wanted you, Natasha. From the very beginning, I've always wanted you.”

“I've always wanted you back.”

She turned her head and looked up, meeting Maria's warm eyes and feeling like time was scrambling again. She had to take a break, the closeness of her jumps to each other was exhausting her body, almost as she was starting to function physically in the past as she did in the present, as if her timelines were merging together, but it was just in her head. She needed to go back to her first jump, to October 1st, and rest for at least an hour or two. She wasn't used to so many vertical jumps and it was starting to wear her out.

“I can't have a personal phone with me while I'm away.”

From the sound of Maria humming, she didn't believe that to be true. Natasha couldn't blame her, it sounded stupid, but it was technically true.

“Look, Maria, the plumbing, the lamp, the TV, I-”

“I know. You took care of the list 'cause you're going away for a while and you didn't want me to be too stressed. I figured. I think I know your patterns well enough by now,” it wasn't bitter or angered, it was just a neutral statement, it was just Maria being honest. “How long?”

“A month. Look, maybe this will be good. I was thinking about sitting this one out too, staying in a shorter range so I could come back more often, but maybe we need a little time apart to think about what we want and what we need.”

“What do you mean, sitting this one out too? Have you been turning down bigger missions to stay in the US?”

“Let's not make it a big deal. My team's not handling big stuff lately, anyway. It was just about choosing smaller missions here or somewhere in the middle of nowhere.”

There was a moment were the only sound was the one made by the water, sliding against their bodies.

“Maybe you're right, maybe this will be for the best. Figure out where we're headed.”

“And a month isn't that bad, right? We've been apart a lot longer.”

“You weren't in love, back then.”

Natasha wanted to reply, “well, you weren't either,” but decided that she didn't want to risk an answer that would start an argument, so she whispered a raspy “yeah” and didn't say anything else.

  


**[February 13th, 2003 – New York City]**

She went back to her first jump, got into the safe house and slept for a couple of hours, but it did nothing to quell the headache she had been nursing since she jumped. She looked at her watch. It had been almost sixteen seconds in the present, not that much, considered she was going to jump vertically again multiple times.

When she did, she felt off. The headache was starting to be unbearable and she realized that, despite being gone mere seconds from her present, she had lived for days in the past, maybe weeks – scattered through months – and she had barely slept. She needed rest, a proper uninterrupted night of sleep.

She stumbled to a public phone and dialled Maria's number. Three rings later, she picked up.

“Hello?” There were voice in the background, someone was laughing, there was even some music playing.

“Hi, it's me.”

“Nat. Hey.”

She cleared her voice, trying to reach beyond the fog in her own mind. “So, I'm back and I know it's super late, but I was thinking we could go on a date tomorrow.”

“Sure, sounds great. I'll make a reservation, come to my place around seven?”

“Perfect. See you tomorrow then. And, uhm, enjoy your night.”

She hung up the phone and walked to the Red Room safe house she was occupying when she needed a place to crash. She was tired, but she was also short of cash, so she got to the laptop that the Red Room kept there and started meddling around a little.

If Maria wanted stability, if that month helped her move on, then her time in the past was running out. But she could do something useful and weaken the Red Room's financial power, so that when they got to the chase in 2007 it would be easier.

Hacking inside most of the accounts was pretty easy, given that she knew most of the passwords and could easily rely on her hacking skills for the rest, but hiding her tracks was proving to be a little harder than she thought. Yet, she managed to empty a lot of enormous accounts, scattering the money across the world, giving them to refugees, struggling families, emancipated kids, paying off student loans and everything else she could think of. She needed some cash for herself, so she transferred some of the money to an account in Switzerland, then jumped there to retrieve all of it in person, and finally jumped back.

She stacked the cash away in her bag, ready at all times in case she needed to flee, along with the few clothes she had collected over time. She barely reached the bed before collapsing, exhausted, her head pounding. She glanced at the clock. It was three in the morning. She blinked once, twice, then fell asleep.

  


**[February 14th, 2003 – New York City]**

Natasha was out cold for thirteen hours. When she woke up, it was four in the afternoon and she was supposed to see Maria in three hours. There was no time to waste. She stretched, yawned, then got up from the bed and walked to the living room.

She cracked her knuckles and finished stretching. She was glad she got that much sleep, because her headache was finally gone and she felt rested enough to make it in time, even if there seemed to be a slight delay ahead.

“Good morning, gentlemen. It was nice of you not to kill me in my sleep,” she smiled, walking into the room. It was also very stupid. But she didn't say that, she raised her hands in surrender and peacefully sat down in the chair the three men prepared for her.

“Where are you from?” The tall one asked her with a thick accent.

“Russia. I'm guessing you are, too.”

“This is not a game,” the one with the moustache warned. He seemed impatient, he had a gun in his right hand and seemed ready to fire at any given moment.

“Which year,” Tall One clarified.

“This one.”

“No, we're from this one,” Moustache said. “You really thought Ivan wouldn't send us to check? Your tracker has been showing here on and off for months now.”

“My tracker?”

“Shut up, you've said too much, already,” Tall One said.

Of course. The Helicarrier had the clocking device, no trackers could be detected on board. And why would Fury remove her tracker, when her missions were so short? It could always be useful if she decided, someday, to run from S.H.I.E.L.D., and they didn't even had to go through the trouble of having to install one themselves.

“Took you a while to reach me,” she noted.

“You never stayed long enough for Ivan to plan a jump.”

A jump. So they were there with herself, a past version of herself, that was still working for the Red Room and got them there.

“Let's just handcuff her and bring her back to the other safe house, so Ivan can talk to her,” Moustache said.

“Why isn't he here already, by the way?” She asked.

“You know why,” Moustache said, irritated. “Come on, give me the zip ties and the hood.”

“So I'm waiting for you in another safe house, because you didn't want me to know you were going to arrest myself but from the future. Smart. I'm assuming I'm with the usual two agents right now.”

New York. Somewhere in 2003 because they were registering the jumps she made to New York as she was there and then got suspicious and decided to check it out, so they were probably not much in the future. Maybe between March and May. Possibly the second half of the year, if her jumps in New York hadn't stopped. But that would mean she wasn't going to let Maria go as she planned that night, and it was just not an option. So, between March and May.

She looked at the third guy. The Quiet One.

“I remember you. You were nice. You never tried to invade my personal space, never made a sexist comment. You didn't last very long. Three weeks, if I'm not wrong? What week of duty are you on now?”

From the look on his face, the answer was immediately clear. Those three lads were not going to leave the room.

“Well, thank you for your help. You've told me everything I needed, so I guess we're done,” Natasha said, seeing Moustache reaching for his gun. She jumped and reappeared behind him, disarmed him while choking his neck with her left arm, then used his own gun to shoot Tall One and Quiet One. She grazed his temple with the barrel of the gun. “You, on the other hand, you were my least favourite. I won't be sad to not see you come back,” she whispered in his ear, then shot through his head.

She was fucked. She couldn't stay in the safe house, she couldn't stay anywhere until she got rid of the tracker. That was when it hit her. Maria's apartment. Since they knew where Natasha had been spending a lot of time, the next place they would look was there.

Rationally, she knew there were three things to do: get Maria to safety, then get rid of the tracker, then made Maria move. And she had to do so before their date.

First. Get Maria somewhere safe.

She searched the pockets of the Tall One and retrieved his phone, she searched through it and found the names of the files regarding the tracker movements. She used the laptop and his credentials to access it and delete everything she could find. It wouldn't be much, because they would find a way to get it back, but it would slow them down.

She dressed quickly, took the bag that was already prepared, and headed for the door. She got to the nearest public phone and called Maria. Straight to voicemail. She hung up and walked to the nearest alley.

Second point it was, then. She would go back to point one after. Get rid of the tracker.

Natasha knew only one person who could possibly do that without harming her. Doctor Jemma Simmons. Problem was, Natasha wasn't currently her favourite person on the planet, so she couldn't jump back in 2007 asking for help. She couldn't reach out to past Jemma either, because for some reason she hadn't taken it out yet, so she wouldn't help her. Technically, the only person who was both capable and willing to help her, was Future Doctor Jemma Simmons. And since Natasha had never travelled to the future, that was a massive problem.

But she never jumped outside her own timeline either, yet she did it for Maria. And, for Maria, she could do this, too.

Ten years should be enough for everything that might have happened between herself and S.H.I.E.L.D. to either be forgiven or forgotten, possibly both. Ten years. She had to do that. She had to focus on Jemma Simmons and jump in the future. She had to get rid of the tracker, then she had to come back to help Maria and bring her to safety. She had to make it.

She took a couple calming breaths, then closed her eyes, and leapt. 

  


**[February 13th, 2017 – New York City]**

Jemma and Daisy were in the lab, alone. They were waiting for the Quinjet to reach the Russian and the base he set in his submarine, so they could stop whatever he and AIDA were planning. They weren't very far, but they still were in the middle of nowhere. May and Coulson were driving the jet, Fitz and Mack were in Mace's office, and that left the two of them, alone in the lab.

For the umpteenth time, Daisy found herself thinking about when she first arrived to the Bus. When Jemma and Fitz were just friends. Maybe, if she had said something then, maybe it wouldn't be this hard, now.

“Jemma, I- holy fuck, what just happened?”

They both turned to the other side of the counter they were leaning on, to the person who’d just appeared out of thin air.

“Hello, Doctor Simmons. And, we haven't met. Not yet at least,” she extended her hand to the woman she didn't recognize. “Natasha Romanoff.”

“Holy shit, I know that, Agent Romanoff,” the girl took her hand and shook it consistently more than necessary. “I'm Daisy, Daisy Johnson.”

“Okay.”

The woman seemed surprised by her dismissal of the name. “Agent Johnson, though? Quake? Fellow Inhuman?”

“You look,” her eyes travelled down Daisy's features and body quickly, “Twenty-five? So you're maybe fifteen where I'm from? I'm truly sorry.”

“Right, you're time travelling, of course!” Daisy said, in a childlike, enthusiastic voice.

“I am. Yes. And from your reaction to my presence and your enthusiastic demeanour, I take it I'm not still locked up in a cage you built, Doctor Simmons?” Natasha asked with a small smile.

“What? You locked up The Black Widow, Jemma? Woah. That's- woah.”

“What can we do for you, Agent Romanoff?”

Natasha frowned. “Your eyes. You're happy, yet sad to see me. Plus, you two seem pretty close, yet Daisy has never met me. I won't make it this far, will I?”

Jemma tried to change her expression to a neutral one, then shook her head. “We're just not openly in touch, at the moment. How can we help?”

Natasha, of course, did not believe a word. “How long do I have? Five years? Seven?” She studied Jemma's response to that. “Three?” She kept looking into Jemma's eyes. “Much less than that, from the look in your eyes.”

Jemma swallowed and looked away.

“The tracker. Can you help me get rid of it?”

“Didn't we-”

“No. Not yet, at least, and I need it out as quickly as possible. Can you do that?”

“I'll need to localize it and make an extraction plan. I'll search your old files for the localization part, but I'll need a few days to elaborate a procedure, we're not in a good spot at the moment, we're on a mission right now,” she explained.

“Okay. Three months should be more than enough. I'll see you then, right here in this lab. And needless to say, nobody else can know about this.”

Without another word, she disappeared.

**[May 13th, 2017 – New York City]**

The Quinjet was a lot quieter. The lab was a lot darker. Almost as if nobody had been there for quite sometime.

As she was walking around, the lights were suddenly turned on.

“She should be here any moment, and-” the British accent was unmistakable. Jemma walked in the lab with Daisy Johnson by her side and a briefcase in her hand. “Agent Romanoff, you're already here,” she smiled, but it was forced. Her eyes were tired, dark circles around them.

“Your mission didn't go well. What happened?”

Jemma smiled and sighed at the same time. “You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Anyway, I have all the tools I need and I can take the tracker off,” she patted the briefcase and instructed Natasha to lie on one of the beds in the lab.

She saw her starting to unpack the briefcase with shaky hands, and the other woman took her immediately, stilling them. They exchanged a meaningful look.

“You can do this, Jemma,” Daisy whispered.

“Let's hope I can. The fate of the entire world depends on this.”

Daisy scoffed. “No pressure.”

Natasha cleared her voice. “So, where's Fitz? And why are you calling me Agent Romanoff, did we fight? Are we not friends anymore?”

Jemma walked towards her and smiled gently at her. “We didn't fight. I just didn't know where you came from, I didn't know if we're on a first name basis, yet.”

“Always so polite. So, where's the tracker? Brain? Stomach? Don't say something boring like arm or leg, 'cause I could have taken it out myself.”

“Natasha, the tracker, it's uhm- it's in your spine. Between your second and third vertebrae.”

“Ah, that's why you're worried. I'm not much use to S.H.I.E.L.D. if I'm tetraplegic. Maybe one of Fitz's robots could do this? They seem pretty steady.”

Jemma and Daisy exchanged another meaningful look.

“Simmons, you know I came to you because I trust you. I know you can do this, okay? Take your time, you'll do great,” Natasha reassured her, turning to lay on her stomach.

“Alright, I'm going to inject some anaesthetic, just a local one,” Jemma warned. A second later, she felt the pinch. “You might still feel some discomfort, but I brought Daisy so she can keep you distracted.”

“I'm a huge fan,” she heard the other woman say. “I mean, it's not everyday you get to meet the Black Widow.”

She heard Jemma clear her voice. There was a pause. Then Daisy's tone changed a little and got slightly less enthusiastic.

“Anyway. What year are you from?”

Natasha smirked a little. “It's okay to think my power is cool, it doesn't make you a bad person, even though I'm sure that Simmons' disapproving eyes were enough to make you tone it down. I don't know what your power is, but I do know that having a bad, dark power, doesn't make you automatically a bad person. Maybe I wouldn't have turned out like I did if more people had believed that. It's okay if you have a dark power. It won't make you bad. I can tell by the way Jemma looks at you, you could never be bad.” She smiled to herself, then continued. “You know, I had someone who looked at me like that, too. It almost saved me, I think,” she furrowed her eyebrows. “I don't really know what will happen to me, yet, but I think she will almost save me. I will almost let her.”

Her own words felt heavy in the empty laboratory, as if she was emptying that loaded secret into the future so she didn't have to carry its weight back to the present.

“But if someone remembers who I was when I was with her, if even one person knows I could have been a good person by her side, than that's gonna have to be enough for me. It was impossible for her to ever truly save me. But, my God, did she try. If anyone could have, it would have been her.”

“Are you talking about the Ke-”

“Daisy!”

Natasha frowned. “What?”

“The ke-key. It's a long story, it's an inside joke between me and Jemma, we used to call someone that, because of- uhm, unprofessional reasons that I- ah, I can't say because Jemma won't allow it,” she stumbled across the sentence.

“Help me immobilize her, please,” Jemma told her coldly. Daisy did as she was asked, and they strapped her head and torso down.

Natasha chuckled. “God, you're so whipped,” she told her, then got serious again. “You're not a bad person, that's all I'm saying. You're not a bad person just because you have a bad power. It was just a coincidence that I was.”

“No, that's not why I asked at all,” Daisy said quietly, her hands gently grasping Natasha's. She shook her head decisively. “You're not a bad person. Bad things happened to you.”

“Daisy, Natasha, please. You can't talk about the present – which is the future for Natasha. Just talk about coffee or flowers. Please. So I can stress about just one thing at a time,” Jemma said in a firm tone.

“Yes, ma'am,” Daisy said. “So, what year are you from?” She asked again.

“I'm from 2007.”

Daisy frowned a little, maybe doing the math, then looked at Jemma for a moment, before looking back at Natasha.

“Okay, the anaesthetic started working, so I'm starting now.”

“Do your thing. Daisy and I will just keep chatting. How did you and Jemma meet?”

“Well, a new team was approved, we lived on a plane called the Bus. Operated from there, always on the move,” Daisy explained.

“And you were one of the field agents?”

“No, I was their first target. Instead, they recruited me, so here I am,” she smiled cockily.

“Funny. Same thing happened to me,” Natasha smirked back. “Who else did Fury put on your team?”

“It was actually Hill who recruited, I guess?” Daisy pondered. “I'm not sure.”

Natasha's smiled disappeared, then she forced another one. “Does Agent Hill still works for S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

She saw Daisy glance at Jemma and then look back at her. “Not at the moment. She was Deputy Director for a while, now she works at Stark's Industries.”

“No, you've got to be kidding me. All the jobs in the world, all the men in the world, and she ended up with that fucker? I thought she wouldn't even go on a second date with him, ten years later and she left S.H.I.E.L.D. for him? I don't like the future, I'm almost glad I'm dead by now,” she said in a voice she barely recognized. She was suddenly considering messing up the time-stream so bad that the universe imploded, just so Maria wouldn't be with Stark.

“That is the anaesthetic talking,” Jemma reassured her. “I don't think you really believe Agent Hill would have done that.”

Natasha frowned. No, of course not, Maria was too smart. There had to be a valid reason for that, for sure.

“No more informations about the present. Please,” Jemma pleaded.

“Just two more questions, then I'm done,” Natasha bargained. “First. Did you and Fitz get together in the end? We were all so sure you would, once you weren't teenagers anymore.”

There was a long pause, so long that Natasha thought maybe she wasn't going to get an answer at all, but then, “We did. For a while,” Jemma's voice was soft. “He was my best friend. I would have done anything to make him happy. I tried, we both did, but we just- we didn't work out that way.”

“And then you met Daisy,” Natasha stepped in, her voice sleepy, her mind foggy.

“No, we met long before,” Daisy said.

“You like her,” Natasha pointed out.

“I knew she belonged with someone else. My timing was always off, all my life,” Daisy explained, a resigned tone. “Maybe someday I'll finally catch up.”

“I think we already have, Daisy. We're right here, together,” Jemma pointed out.

“This is super cute, but your hands are meddling with my spine, can you two confess your feeling later, please?” Natasha brought their focus back on the moment.

Daisy cleared her voice. “What was the second thing you wanted to ask?”

Natasha closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again, her decision already made. She had to know. “Simmons?”

“Yes, Natasha?”

“Is she happy?”

That was the only thing that mattered about the future of the world. Not that she wasn't there. Not that S.H.I.E.L.D. was apparently half dismantled. If she could only know one thing, then that was what she wanted to be told.

“Yes. She's very happy,” Jemma said.

Natasha smiled.

  


**[February 14th, 2003 – New York City]**

After her tracker was removed, she jumped back to 2003, the morning of the same day, when her other self was still fast asleep in the safe house. She headed to Maria's apartment and knocked on the door. When she got no answer, she picked the lock and got inside.

She called Maria's name a couple of times, when she walked out of the bathroom, her hair still damp from the shower she just took.

“Natasha, what are you doing here?”

“Look, this is going to sound crazy, but I need you to trust me. Remember when I said I couldn't have a personal phone because they could track it back to you?” She grimaced.

“Ah, that's who those guys where. Three of them, last night, as I was walking home. I took them out, then called for backup. They were being transported in some military prison, when they swallowed something, presumably cyanide. They're all dead.”

Natasha let out a relieved breath. “They tracked me here. Russian guys?”

Maria nodded.

“They have this location. You need to move as far away from here as possible, Maria.”

“Nat, no offence, I do appreciate the concern, but I'm an army Captain, so,” she nodded towards her bed, where there was an half packed suitcase. “I'm already moving, I found a new apartment a little closer to work, destroyed my phone, and I'm packing up everything so I can be out of here by the end of the morning.”

“Well, what if I hadn't shown up? I'd have come here tonight and you would have stood me up?” She raised an eyebrow.

Maria smiled. “I'd have come here to pick you up, silly. Now, would you help me pack, since you're here already?”

Natasha sighed in relief. “Yes. Yes, I'll help you pack, then unpack at the new place. Our date can be sorting through clothes, along with pizza and beer.”

Maria faked a charmed expression. “The perfect Valentine.” She smiled and walked to Natasha, to peck her on the lips. Then her expression got serious. “Look, about when you called last night-”

“Maria, we don't have to do this,” Natasha stopped her.

She had a crazy day, one hell of a day, that hadn't even started yet, technically. And she spent it all thinking she was about to say goodbye to Maria. Then she went ten years into the future and she realized, it was impossible for her to think that it was over between them. How could it be? They barely had their start. It wasn't fair that it had to be over already. So, she decided she wouldn't say goodbye at all.

“I'm not around a lot. Not nearly as much as I'd like to be,” Natasha said. “I don't expect you to wait for me to come back every time I leave. So, whomever you were with, whatever you were doing, it's fine. It doesn't matter if I'm not it for you, Maria, I know you'll be happy long after I leave this world, I hope so with my whole heart actually. But you're it for me. My happy ending, the one person who makes the rest of the world stop, the only things that will matter to me ten years from now. I just had to say this. In case this is the last chance I get, I had to say that you were my miracle, Maria. You were my fate. You set me free and saved my life. That doesn't mean you have to stay for the rest of it if you don't want to.”

Maria stopped her rambling by taking Natasha’s face into her hands and looking into the redhead’s eyes.

“You're not leaving this world. Those men are gone, I'll make sure anyone else who ever comes looking for you here will get arrested as well. And you're all of that for me, too, Natasha. You're my miracle, you're the love of my life. Nothing could ever change that, nothing.”

When Natasha kissed her, it was a spark igniting an instant fire. It was a kiss filled with passion, with hunger and teeth. Maria picked her up and settled her down on the bed so gently, almost reverentially.

“You didn't let me finish,” Maria said breaking the kiss. “For the record, yesterday evening? I was at Ian's place.”

Natasha frowned. “I thought he was married.”

“He is. I was babysitting his two kids while he was on a date with his wife, Natasha. By the way, I just wanted to say that I'd like you to meet them sometime, 'cause I think you'll like them.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah,” Maria chuckled and kissed her on the nose, then on the lips. “I love you so much. I don't know how you could ever think I'd go on a date with someone else.”

The name Tony Stark was immediately presented by her mind, but she choked it back and kissed Maria again, deeper, longer than before.

“For the record, I love you, too.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so incredibly sorry for the delay. I didn't have wifi (new apartment) and I had no way to update. Thank you for the patience if you're sticking around, please let me know what you thought!
> 
> A special thank you to my beta, cocoa-and-donuts.
> 
> To the wonderful, amazing mldcmx, who has put together a complete timeline with every jump and every date in this story: there are simply no words known to man to describe how amazing your chart truly is, I still can't believe you did that.
> 
> Thank you guys <3


	25. Zenith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ○ → 2007, April 29th: Natasha's jumps are discovered by Maria's team; she stays in the past for longer than she initially intended to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amazing, lovely, awesome mldcmx (find her on tumblr!) made a chart with everything that happened so far summed up for you guys!! So for this chapter I'm going to link the folder with last chapter's summary:
> 
> https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/e0xnnh7pdse06pk/DK-Timeline%20%28Ch.%2024%29.jpg?dl=0
> 
> and from next chapter's on I'm going to link each chapter graph for you. This is awesome and took a lot of work, nobody ever did something so spectacular for one of my stories, so my heart go out to you!!!
> 
> A big, huge, giant thank you to cocoa-n-donuts without whom this work wouldn't exist. I love you!

  


  


**[March 4th, 2003 – New York City]**

Natasha tried to focus on another date, at first. She knew it was best visiting Maria during weekends, so she wouldn't have to be up early in the morning for work and they could go out and then stay up late talking. Or, sometimes, not talking.

But for some reason, even if she tried to jump a little further ahead, she felt pulled to that week.

She eventually relented to her own power, knowing that sometimes her instincts could lead her to the right path.

That was how Natasha found herself standing in front of Maria's front door at three in the afternoon on a Tuesday. She was about to pick the lock and let herself in, when a noise from inside the apartment startled her. Someone was inside.

It was a good thing that Natasha Romanoff was always ready for a fight.

She crept in, trying not to make any noise, and closed the door behind herself. She heard the noise again, coming from the couch. She was unarmed, but she didn't need a weapon to take out one single person. She walked quietly towards the noise and realized it was the television, sporadically matched by an half-hearted laugh coming from the person sprawled on the couch.

She stood there for a moment, looking at Maria, slumped on the couch, motionless, watching TV in the middle of the afternoon on a work day, and she felt like she had been projected into an alternate reality. Maybe time travel had finally fried her brain.

“What are you doing?”

“Shit!” Maria shot up, throwing over the bowl full of popcorn laying beside her on the couch, and immediately fell into a fight stance, then relaxed when she saw Natasha. “What the fuck, Natasha, you gave me a heart attack.”

She sat down and took what was left of her popcorns, bringing an handful to her mouth.

“Maria? What are you doing?”

“Watching Friends' re-runs. Can you believe this show is still airing? I bet everybody will have forgotten all about this in a couple of years.”

Natasha wanted to scoff and make fun of her, but she had to focus on the more pressing matter at hand.

“Is everything okay?”

Maria looked at her with a slight frown. “Obviously,” she told her around her mouthful of popcorn. “Ah, except I got fired and my life is over.”

“What?! How could they do that? You're- well, you.”

“Yeah,” Maria chuckled humourlessly, “Exactly.” When Natasha kept staring at her, she elaborated. “Officially, I resigned,” she stated, putting aside the popcorn and patting the couch next to herself so Natasha would sit.

“Unofficially?”

“DADT discharge.”

“What?”

“Don't ask, don't tell. It's this thing they do in the army when-”

“I know what DADT is, Maria.”

“Well, some jackass decided to report me and the General asked around and, long story short, I'm unemployed and there is no meaning to my existence.”

“You're being a little bit over-dramatic. Little bit.”

When Maria eyed her sceptically Natasha smiled a little and kicked her shoes off, raising her legs to lay them across Maria's, scooting closer to her and sliding her arms around Maria's neck. Maria hugged her waist and pulled her closer.

“You think, smartass?”

“Plenty of agencies that would go the extra mile to recruit you, Masha. DADT is stupid. Can't wait for it to vanish into a terrible memory.”

Maria sighed. “Right now, it feels like that might never happen.”

“It will,” Natasha said softly. “I promise it will. And, in the meantime, you send some applications around and you'll see how right I am.”

Maria gave her a half smile and said nothing at all.

“You already did that, didn't you?”

“As soon as I got home from that stupid conversation that ended with my resignation.”

“That's my girl.”

Maria smiled a little more and pulled Natasha closer. The redhead laughed and kissed her on the lips, briefly at first. Then longer. She shifted easily until she was straddling Maria, feeling the brunette's hands settling on her hips to keep her close. Natasha took an handful of Maria's hair and pulled until she rose her chin to grant her a better angle, then deepened the kiss. She felt Maria slightly whimper and it was such a familiar sound, but it still fuelled her in a way that she could barely control. She let go of her lips to trace a path of kisses down Maria's neck, until she reached her shoulder and bit down, feeling Maria moan lightly, this time her lips were closer to Natasha's ear and she had to use all her willpower to detach herself from Maria's skin.

Maria didn't seem to agree that the new distance between them was a good idea, so she kissed Natasha again, securing her hold on Natasha's hips and scooting to the edge of the couch.

“Hold tight,” was the only thing she said before standing up, carrying Natasha with her.

Natasha loved when Maria did that. She barely had the time to adjust her weight so Maria could carry her easily, when teeth scraped her throat, her neck, stopping at her pulse point.

When they finally got to the bedroom, Maria put her on the bed with a gentleness that after all that time still startled Natasha. Her eyes shifted from Maria for just a second, but it was enough.

There it was, on Maria's night-stand, a little miniature Tour Eiffel. Natasha had given  it to her on one of their first meetings. It was a promise of going there together someday, but Natasha wondered if they ever would. She stopped Maria with a hand on her shoulder. Maria followed her gaze.

There was always something holding them back. Maria's work, Natasha's “missions”, and they surely would never go when Natasha got back to the present since Maria was hell-bent on locking her up in that damn cage. After that- well, Simmons made it clear that Natasha wouldn't have that much time.

“Let's go to Paris,” The words left her lips before she had even fully processed them.

“What?”

“Let's do it, Maria. You don't have to go to work, I'm due some time off, we can just go. We always wanted to, we've been saying we would for months now. No time like the present, right?”

Maria looked at her for a long moment, deep in thought. “Well, okay. I'll start packing right now,” she said, trying to get up and off of Natasha.

Natasha wasn't having any of it, she rolled Maria over and straddled her hips again. “Love the enthusiasm,” she stated, “super glad you said yes, but packing can wait.”

“Can it?” Maria asked with a smirk.

Natasha raised the hem of her shirt and kissed down her stomach, to the waistline of her sweatpants and back up.

“It can,” Maria agreed. “It totally can.”

  
Natasha did not think it through. She should have told Maria something along the lines of “see you there the minute you land, bye” and jumped to Paris; it would have saved her money and time, but no, Natasha had to buy them both tickets, she had to do it the normal way. And there she was, sat on a plane. A flying metal can that was about to be shot through the sky.

“Is the mighty Natasha Romanoff nervous?”

“I have no idea why you would think something like that,” Natasha said in an even voice that could have fooled anyone.

“You're squeezing my hand like you're in the middle of childbirth.”

Natasha let it go almost abruptly, but Maria caught it back into hers.

“Didn't say I minded. Have you never been on a plane before?”

Natasha certainly could not tell Maria she never needed to, and the few times she actually did she was shoved down the darkest cell and never near a window. The Helicarrier was different. It basically floated, while in that moment their airplane was having a seizure in the middle of the sky, apparently.

“I'm just not really used to see what's below. You know, all that sea we could crash into,” Natasha smiled like it was a joke. “I hope you can swim.”

Maria raised an eyebrow at her. “Nat, it's just a little turbulence.”

A little turbulence that made Natasha want to throw up a lot more than travelling through the fabric of time and space itself.

“Yeah, I know,” Logically, she did. And flying was fine, really. “I know,” When the plane eventually stabilised, she relaxed. She didn't let go of Maria's hand, though, for the whole flight. Maria didn't mind.

  


**  
[March 5th, 2003 – Paris, France]**

Maria was standing outside a boulangerie with her hands inside her peacoat pockets, watching as Natasha talked to the woman at the counter wondering how she got there. A slow smile spread across her face as Natasha waved at her from the other side of the glass.

Maria Hill, planner extraordinaire, flew to France on a whim, because she fell in love with the kind of woman that insisted the first thing they had to do once in Paris was purchasing baguettes. 

It was pretty damn great.

“Where do you want to go first?” Natasha asked, handing Maria one of the filled baguettes she bought them.

“Notre Dame is pretty close.”

“That's a great idea. And in the afternoon we can see the Louvre.” 

“We're going to need a map,”

“It's in your backpack,” Natasha told her, biting down on her lunch.

“What? How?”

“The guy at the front desk of the hotel gave one to me while you stowed our luggage away. I also drank some of your water.”

“It's your water, too, I'm just the one bringing it around 'cause you didn't bring a backpack,” Maria pointed out.

“Excuse me for not being a child on a school trip.”

“Alright, just for that I'll let you thirst to death. No more water for you, my backpack is now for my stuff only.”

“Tsk. You would never,”

“Damn,” Maria stopped suddenly when they arrived in front of the Notre-Dame Cathedral. “Wow.”

“Hey,” Natasha elbowed Maria in the ribs, “look,” she pointed at the ground. “This is the spot where all of France national highways start from. Kilometre zero.”

“What? It's not, you're making that up.”

“I'm not, it's the centre of Paris. We're standing on it,” Natasha smiled to Maria.

Maria smiled, turning to her. “Kiss me in the middle of Paris, then.”

Natasha didn't need to be told twice.

  


  


**[March 6th, 2003 – Paris, France]**

They saw the inside of Notre Dame and walked all the steps to the very top. It was beautiful, breathtakingly so. Then they visited the Louvre and it took much longer than what they had anticipated, the museum was a small city itself.

The next day, they decided to visit more museums and then headed for the Tour Eiffel, finding themselves in line just as the sun was starting to dip beyond the horizon.

They reached the top and watched the sunset. It was majestic, seeing the sky change colours above the city. Maria held the redhead in her arms, planted a kiss on her temple, and Natasha thought she could have spent her whole life like that.

On the highest opening they could access, there was a small shop selling champagne. A couple was celebrating a successful marriage proposal behind them, but their eyes stayed on the city below.

“We're in Paris together,”

“I'm glad we made it here,” Natasha said. “I hope I'll have the chance to keep all the promises I made to you.” Natasha wished life was that merciful, despite the voice in the back of her head reminding her that this was not her present and it was not her life.

Maria just smiled, tightened her hold on Natasha and thought to herself that the future she wanted with Natasha was finally starting to feel possible.

  


  


**[March 8th, 2003 – Paris, France]**

Natasha, instead of going back to her original jump and then jumping again, started to only jump vertically, adding layers to her travel, to buy more time. She discovered that she had more time if she did that, she could stay in the past for forty-eight hours if she double jumped, seventy-two if she triple jumped, and so on. So she didn't even need to go back when she felt like the end was nearing, she just had to jump immediately after and disappear from sight for a millisecond before re-appearing where she was. She also discovered that, as long as she kept a regular sleep-schedule and timely meals, she wouldn't have the headaches, staying always sharp and focused like she wasn't jumping at all.

They saw majority of the city, the museums, the landmarks, the neighbourhoods. So on the fourth day, they decided to go visit Versailles for the day.

“This place is endless,” Maria whispered, looking around the room they were in.

“And this is just the main palace, but there are all the places outside that we need to see,” Natasha said, tugging Maria sleeve and looking down. “They used to dance here.”

“Sure did. In all those fancy dresses and strange fashion. Must have been something else.”

Natasha smirked and looked up at her. “Didn't realize you liked those.”

Maria shrugged. “Everybody does. I mean, I wouldn't want to live there or anything, but just once? One dance, at a Marie Antoinette's ball? You have to admit it would be pretty neat.” 

Yes, Natasha supposed it would be pretty neat. She could almost hear the music if she listened close enough, as if time had merged for her, till she was both in the eighteenth century and in the present all at once.

“They were so young,” Maria's voice distracted her. “She was nineteen, when she became the Queen of France. I don't think people realize that she was just a kid, trying to do her best.”

“You're twenty.”

“Yes, that's my point, thank you. Imagine me, being elected President this year. That would be absurd, wouldn't it? She was married when she was fifteen years old, this is insane,” she read out loud from the pamphlet she was holding.

“That can't be right, it's super creepy.”

“It is,” Maria murmured, shifting the papers in her hand to look at a map. “Come on, I want to see the park outside.”

  
“Okay. Wow. Wow. I didn't flip at the golden gates. I didn't lose it at all the golden decorations  indoors. But this is- wow.”

“Are- are those people having a canoe race? That lake is freaking huge!” Natasha agreed with her. “Wait, wait, one of the main fountains has a water show, come on, we need to see that.”

She tugged on Maria's sleeve, trying to follow the directions on the map. Maria chuckled, but followed her silently.

They visited the fountains and then proceeded to the other parts, until they reached the Château that Marie Antoinette had set up and sat down on a bench, scanning the cottages around them.

“She apparently loved England so much that not only she had them build this, but she paid people to pretend to work here as farmers and everything and speak to her in a British accent. See? This is what happens when you hand a kingdom to a teenager, Natasha,” Maria waved the pamphlet in her face.

Natasha snorted and shook her head. “Can't say she had poor taste, at least. This looks incredible.”

“It does. It's amazing. It's been a wonderful few days, Nat. Thank you.”

“Thank you, baby. You're the one carrying the backpack around and making sure we don't die of dehydration.”

“You know what I meant. Thanks for being here for me.”

“Always, Masha. Always.”

Natasha wished she could tell Maria everything just so she could let her have that dance in Versailles at a Marie Antoinette's ball.

  


  


**[March 10th, 2003 – Paris, France]**

They were having dinner, Maria was telling her a funny story about a recruit and they were laughing so much that Maria was struggling to keep talking.

“Anyway, I found him in a closet – an honest to God closet – two hours later.”

“You did not!”

They busted into laughter again, and it felt so light and perfect, like they could keep doing that for the rest of their lives.

Then, Natasha had to remind herself, that it wasn't her life. It wasn't her present. She couldn't be there forever. Her chuckle faltered and she struggled to keep a smile on her face.

Maria noticed the change immediately. “Sorry, am I boring you? Is something wrong?”

Natasha gave her a smile and shook her head no. They would go back home the next day. Maria would get the job in S.H.I.E.L.D. soon. And then, Natasha would leave. She had to leave.

“I just- I don't think I'm ready to go back, yet,” she murmured.

“Okay. Let's not.”

“What?”

Maria shrugged. “Name a place and we can go there instead.”

“Really?”

A slow smile crept on Maria's face as well. “I'm not really ready to go back either. If you can get some more time off at work, and if you want to stay in our pretty little bubble a little longer, then yeah, really.”

  


  


**[March 12th, 2003 – Venice, Italy]**

Maria had never seen anything as beautiful as the sun settling down on the water while drinking white wine on a Gondola.

“You were right,” Maria whispered in awe.

“I was, wasn't I? This is the most romantic city in the world.”

“Wouldn't know. Haven't been to Rome, yet.”

“Well do you want to go? We could be eating pizza in front of the Colosseum by tomorrow, just say the word.”

“The word.”

“You're such a smartass.”

  


  


**[March 15th, 2003 – Rome, Italy]**

“Are you sure this is the right way?”

“I already told you twice, Masha. I'm sure,” Natasha smirked, glancing behind. “You've been out of the army for, what, two weeks? And you can't make it up this hill, Hill?” 

“Very funny. You're hilarious,” Maria said ironically, her breath a little short. “I'm a little offended that you're implying I'm out of shape.”

“Well, you do sound a little out of breath.”

“Maybe it's the view.”

Natasha frowned, glancing behind again. They weren't even close to the – oh.

“Stop staring at my butt and hurry up.”

“Geez, we already saw a large part of the city, Nat. What's the rush?”

“We'll miss the sunset, I just want to see it from there and who knows when we'll have the chance again,” Natasha said with a smirk.

“Yeah, well, if maybe you hadn't...delayed us,” Maria said in a huff, “we wouldn't have to hurry, would we?”

“I don't remember you protesting this much when I had my mouth on-”

“Are you absolutely sure this is the shortest way there?”

“For the fourth time: yes! This is the way there, Masha. Now please save your breath and hurry up, or we won't even make it for tomorrow's sunset.”

“Well, if you want to take the backpack with all the heavy stuff you put in there, I'll gladly- holy shit.”

“I told you this was the way.”

There was a small garden ahead of them, with a couple of benches. At the end, there was a low wall, separating them from a cliff. And beyond the cliff, there was – everything.

Maria's eyes got lost on the city below, every monument, every piece of the Eternal City, could be glimpsed at from where they were standing.

The bickering from a moment before was long gone, Maria took Natasha's hand in hers, intertwining their fingers and smiling softly. “Wow.”

“Wow, indeed.”

Natasha slowly dragged her towards the edge, eyes fixated on the horizon, and they stood there, watching the sun slowly setting down on the line where the land met the sky, painting everything in soft colours and dim light.

Maria turned then, looking at the woman beside her, marvelling at the look on her face as Natasha got lost on a simple, daily occurrence such as a sunset. A woman, a soldier that had seen worse things than Maria could ever begin to imagine, but still with that look of pure awe in her eyes while gazing at the sky.

It was there, in that moment, in the soft lights of a city they swore they would see together, in a promise kept, that Maria knew. Maria knew.

“I'm gonna marry this woman, one day.”

  


  


**[March 17th, 2003 – New York City]**

Natasha opened the door, using Maria's keys for once, and turned on the light, as Maria carried their bags inside.

The days they'd been gone, along with the flights, had drained them of all their energy.

It was late and already dark outside.

They worked together silently, Maria taking the bags to the bedroom, unpacking their belongings, emptying basically everything in the washing machine – including Natasha's stuff; in the meantime Natasha fixed them a quick dinner and then started to run a bath they would take together, so they could relax and rest for a while.

When they finally headed to bed, it was well past midnight and Maria fell on the mattress, an arm over her eyes, sighing softly.

“Paris was gorgeous and Italy was breathtaking, but I'm kinda glad to be back.”

Natasha worked her hair with a towel, sitting beside Maria, smiling to herself. “It's good to be homesick every once in awhile. Reminds you where you belong. Doesn't mean you can't enjoy your time away, it just means that you're sure where you want to head back when you're tired and you need to rest.”

“Feeling a little homesick, Romanoff?” Maria asked, moving her arm slightly out of the way so she could peek at Natasha, smirking a little.

Natasha shrugged, with a smile of her own. “I'm just kinda glad to be back home, too.”

It was such an offhand remark, that it was almost like the word hadn't instantly made Natasha's heart speed up so fast that she was sure it was trying to beat its way out of her chest. Maria kept smiling up at her, the smirk replaced by a softer, kinder smile.

“My grandma always used to say, home is that thing you think about when you're so tired you can barely keep your eyes open. I thought it was silly when I was little, but now I think maybe she was right, you know?”

Natasha just raised an eyebrow at her.

“We've been travelling for two weeks, we've walked so much that your sneakers might be ruined for good, we barely slept and tried so much different food I hardly remember what a cheeseburger tastes like. We've gone far and wide, and came back. And I'm beat. Absolutely done for,” Maria chuckled. “I'm so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. And like any other time I was barely able to keep my eyes open, like any other time I felt so tired and so beaten I wasn't sure I'd ever feel rested again...” 

Natasha knew that it included all those moments when the only thing Maria could breathe was sand, the only thing Maria could hear were gunshots, and the only thing Maria could smell was death.

“...The only place where I wanna be is in your arms.”

Natasha's eyes burned and it wasn't from sleep and it wasn't from soap from the bath. Her eyes burned with the same thing that was burning her heart, her lungs, her entire body.

“You know I feel that too, Masha. I am so in love with you I can barely remember a time when I wasn't.”

Maria smiled. “I'm in love with you, too.”

Maria smiled, and the rest of Natasha’s worries? The war raging in the background of her timeline, the flash of the barrel of a gun aimed at her head, her present, the Red Room, her own doomed fate? The rest didn't matter. It just didn't. Not right then.

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought and sorry for the immense delay!
> 
> <3


	26. Nadir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Recap](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/57kmj5w4ug05hxy/DK%20-%20Timeline%20Links.txt?dl=0) by [mldcmx](http://mldcmx.tumblr.com/) (you're amazing, this is amazing, I can't say this enough! <3)  
>   
>  Shout out to my [beta](http://cocoa-n-donuts.tumblr.com/): you're the best!  
> 

  
  
  
  


  
**[March 24th,  
2003 – New York City]**

Natasha had been gone for a week. Just a week.

Rationally, Maria knew it could have been worse. She could have been gone for weeks, for months, for years, for good.

A week wasn't that bad.

But it wasn't the week per se.

It was the fact that Maria was sure that things were going to change – she wasn't anymore, of course, but she _had been_ , at some point, albeit briefly – that it would have been different that time.

After their trip, those shared confessions of love, of home, she thought things had changed between them. She thought, quite frankly, that those words changed everything.

Maybe it was Maria's own heart, her certainty that Natasha was the one she wanted, her newfound certainty in her feelings that fueled that confidence. It was misled, wherever it came from, because Natasha certainly didn't seem to be under that same impression that things had quite changed between them. That things couldn't go back to be just as they were before.

Maria had been sure – not sure, no, strongly inclined to believe, more than was appropriate – that Natasha would stay. Or, at the very least, that she would try to stay.

Natasha didn't. Natasha _couldn't_. But Maria didn't know that, she just knew that Natasha _wouldn't_.

She was also well aware that Natasha loved her job and was hell bent on fulfilling whatever contract that she had. Maria knew Natasha had other things to do, important things, things that kept people in the world alive and well.

It was what Maria did, too.

Or at least, what she wished she was still doing. She had a couple of interviews. They went rather well and she was offered two average positions at two private companies, but she wasn't sure if those were the right paths for her to follow.

She wanted to go back to doing what Natasha did, what she felt called to do: help people, save people, make a difference.

Maybe that was it. Maybe she was just grumpy because of the temporary set back in her career. If she even had a career anymore, at that point.

Did it even matter? She had saved up enough money to support herself for a while and she was in no rush to go back to Chicago, so she could sell her grandma's house if it was necessary. She could take a job in private security. She wasn't exactly struggling, she had been back for a week and was already offered two jobs – maybe three, if the interview she had that morning went okay, maybe four if the interview she had the next day would go okay as well.

Things weren't perfect. So what? They never were.

They had never been, not for her.

Natasha and herself, they had an agreement. A future together, yes, but only when Natasha was ready to settle in one place. Only then.

What about the present?

Natasha didn't seem overly concerned by that. She never did. It was like she was already living in that hypothetical future they had been planning. She barely had time for the present and when she did, then the present was the only thing that mattered in that moment.

It seemed to Maria like those two things could never coexist for Natasha.

It was starting to take its toll on her. _Stability ,_ her psychiatrist had said she needed. Stability, reliability, something steady and strong. Something Maria could lean on.

  
_“You are on a boat, and the boat sinks,” Maria remembered laughing at her psychiatrist’s  metaphor at first. “You've been swimming in the direction you think the closest land is, your arms are tired and you need to rest. It doesn't make you weak, it doesn't belittle your strength. It's a long journey from the middle of the ocean to the nearest shore, so it can only be good for you to rest when you find a plank.”_

_The woman had looked at Maria, then, seeing the uncertainty in her eyes._

  
**[March 25th, 2003 – New York City]**

When Natasha eventually did come back, Maria forced herself to act like nothing changed. Because it didn't, did it?

As much as she wanted for things to have been different once they came back from their trip, she had to accept the fact that they just were not. Things were just the same.

To Natasha, at least.

“How was your week?”

“Ah, you know, it was fine. Did some interviews, saw Ian, watched Friends.”

“Phoebe's still the best one?”

“Yeah. Ross's still a douche.”

  
_“So I look for a plank?”_

_“You do, you choose one. You try to pick the strongest one you see. You make an effort and you lean on it and catch your breath for a while.”_

_“You know what I'm going to ask.”_

_The psychiatrist smiled._

_“You know.”_

_“Ask me anyway.”_

  
“Do you really wanna talk about Friends?”

“Is there something else you'd like to talk about?”

Maria shrugged. “How long are you staying?”

It had become a routine question.

She mustered the art of sounding very casual, super cool, overall perfectly collected, when she asked that question for what felt like the millionth time.

“Just a couple of days.”

It didn't come as a surprise. Not exactly.

In fact, Maria should have known.

Yes, she should have known. Because it had always been like that. It had always been “for a couple of days”. It was never more than that and, if she actually stopped and thought about it, why on Earth would it be? What would Natasha even stay in New York for? She had a job to do, she had missions, and the only thing Natasha went to New York for was – well, it was Maria herself.

So why couldn't that be enough anymore?

Why couldn't she settle for “a couple of days”?

It had always been how things worked between them. A getaway in Paris didn't change that. A moment in Rome when she thought she wanted to spend her life with Natasha didn't change that. The confession of each other being their own home didn't change that.

There was only one thing that could ever change that. And it was Natasha herself. It was Natasha saying “I'm done and over with that life, I'm ready to pick one place and grow my roots.”

Natasha could admittedly change that. But Natasha would never change that. She made it very clear over and over again that she couldn't, that there was some kind of debt, some kind of mission she had to complete. What that was, she wouldn't say. There was no further explanation given and there was no further explanation requested.

Maria never dug.

What would it matter to know why? If Natasha was telling the truth there was nothing Maria could do to help or change that. And if Natasha wasn't telling the truth, if Natasha wanted to keep going then-

Natasha would settle when she wanted to settle.

Maria didn't have a say in that. Maria didn't want a say in that.

She didn't just want Natasha to stay, she wanted Natasha to want to stay. It was such a twenty-year-old thing to say. Maybe immature. Maybe petty. But that was what she wanted. She wouldn't have it any other way. It had to be Natasha, it had to come from her or it had to not come at all.

“I've been offered some jobs here in the city. Private security. Ian says a CIA-related offer might be thrown my way soon.”

“Are you going to take one of those positions?”

Maria sighed slightly. “I don't know. I don't think so. The CIA position is for bureaucratic crap, mostly, and the others are, well, private security. I want a job that can make the difference. Like yours.”

Natasha nodded. Her eyes dropped for a split second.

“Not every assignment you get is going to change the world, Maria. But you can do some good in the CIA, or any other government organization you pick.”

“Maybe. But the desk job – I don't know, it's not that appealing, you know?”

Natasha chuckled lightly. “I know. But it can make a difference, sometimes more than actual field work.”

Maria's eyes darted away for a moment, then searched into Natasha's.

“Have you ever thought about it?”

“The desk job?”

Maria nodded.

“Never. I'd go nuts in two days.”

_Never._

There it was.

Maria wanted an answer, and there her answer was. She couldn't just choose to ignore it because it wasn't the answer she wanted. She went digging just for once and instead of an hidden treasure, she’d found a smoking gun. She would have to deal with it. Ignoring it entirely wouldn't make it go away, ignoring the words she had just heard didn't even seem possible, actually.

From the moment that single word left Natasha's mouth, she knew where they were headed. She knew things were never going to change. _Never._

Never.

  
_“Ask me anyway.”_

_“My boat broke. It's obviously not my lucky day,” Maria joked, lighting the mood and diverting the way she knew how to best. With irony. “What if the strongest plank isn't strong enough? What if it breaks and I find myself on the ocean again?”_

_The psychiatrist nodded with a faint smile. “You see the strongest plank and it seems to hold, so you lean on it completely. You get up and get on it and rest for a while. Then it suddenly breaks. And what happens then, Maria, do you drown?”_

_Maria's forehead wrinkled._

_“I swim.”_

_The unanswered question lingered for a moment: Why the hell would I drown when I can swim?_

  
“Never?”

The humorless chuckle that left Maria's lips made Natasha backtrack immediately.

“You know what I meant.”

“Yeah, it was pretty clear what you meant.”

Natasha sighed. “Maria-”

“It's okay.”

“It's not.”

“It is, though. This is what things have always been like between us and,” she paused to take a long breath, centering herself on the words she never dared to speak out loud or even allowed herself to think in the private darkness of her own mind, “And I have to come to terms with the fact that it's what they will always be like.”

Natasha didn't counter.

“Or at least, if not always then for a very, very, long time,” Maria said. “And I have to make my peace with that.”

“I'm sorry,”

“It's not your fault.”

“You wanted stability and I-” Natasha bit the inside of her cheek. “I should have given you that.”

“You can't give me that.”

“Not by staying,” Natasha pointed out. “I can't give you stability by staying, but I can give you that by leaving.”

Maria's eyes darkened and she dropped her gaze instantly.

“I'm not going to beg you to stay, Natasha. If you want to go than you should go. If you want out, than you got an out. You always do.”

“I don't want to-”

“Then don't. Don't fucking get out of- of us.”

“It's not that simple.”

“But it is! It is this simple. Fuck, just- just stay if you wanna stay and go when you don't wanna stay anymore.”

“Maria,”

“No. Not like this. I won't let you do it like this. Not because of my- my _stability._ The only reason for you not to come back is because you don't wanna come back.”

“It's not that simple.”

It was never simple between them, was it?

“I'm not asking for you to change things, Natasha. I just said things are going to be this way for a long time. That means I prefer this to the alternative, of not even seeing the crumbles of you anymore. So please, if it's not simple, just fucking _make it _ simple this once.”

Natasha kept looking at her. Sadness in her eyes that didn't quite match Maria's angered sadness, but didn't steer from it that much either.

“But it's not- it's not simple, not even this once.”

Maria's humorless laugh bit into Natasha's heart with the sharp teeth of a goodbye.

“You want to go, then go. But if you leave right now, Natasha, if you leave, then don't come back unless you're ready to stay.”

The words echoed between them in the silence that stretched after the fight. Echoes, Maria learned, are taunting. Echoes of things you wish you never said are shattering. But once the words are out there, the echo keeps repeating even when you wish you could erase them.

The click of the door sliding shut was soft and so anti-climatic that Maria wanted to get up, walk to the door and open it again, only to slam it shut with all her strength, slam it shut and let it echo in the dark, to make a noise, to let the rest of the world know it was closed.

The door was closed.

And Maria would slam it shut, lock it up, chained it, she would even seal it with damned planks if she could, just so it would never open again.

Because every time, every damn time, that door opened up, nothing but pain walked through it.

  
_“I swim.”_

_The unanswered question lingers for a moment. Why the hell would I drown when I can swim?_

_“You swim,” the woman emphasized the point. “The plank can allow you to catch your breath and rest, but ultimately, it's not what can get you to a safe shore. The only thing that will get you there, is yourself. The power was never in the plank, was it? The strength is in your arms.”_

  
Natasha realized what a gigantic mistake it was to fuel that pointless fight the second she waled out of Maria's apartment.

She knew it was stupid, she knew Maria was frustrated; so was she. Maria hoped things could change, and all Natasha needed to do was calmly explain to her that her work wasn't done yet, that she still couldn't walk away.

It would have been a lie.

It would have been wrong and cruel and fake. But it would have bought her more time, more time with Maria, time she wasn't sure she would have in the future, that she was desperately trying to steal from the past.

She walked back in half an hour later and sneaked in the darkness, onto Maria's bed, placing her forehead between Maria's shoulder-blades.

“You know I can't quit this job.”

Forever went by and Natasha wasn't sure Maria was ever going to answer at all.

“I'm not asking you to.”

It was just above a whisper. But it was enough.

“You want me to. You don't have to ask me to, Maria, just knowing that you want me to-” she cut herself off before she could make Maria feel guilty for yet another thing that wasn't her fault. “Of course I thought about it. Of course I did, Masha. Going rough, hiding in dark corners, traveling the world, wide and free and careless and always, always watching my back and sleeping with an eye open because I know that my past is going to catch up with me sooner rather than later. And what kind of life could that be for you, love?” Natasha asked rhetorically. “You said it yourself; you want to change the world.”

Maria knew she was right.

Natasha knew it didn't matter that she was.

“Do you remember that number you gave me?”

“The psychiatrist?”

“Yeah. She told me once that everybody needs a plank every once in a while. That we can't always swim all the time. It doesn't mean we couldn't if we absolutely had to. Just that we can't do it forever. Sooner or later, we all need to rest.”

Natasha wanted to talk about myoglobin and ATP and molecular oxygenation – but she just hummed, agreeing with her that no, you cannot possibly swim forever.

“I don't want to wait anymore. I don't think there's any use in denying that. But that doesn't mean that I won't keep waiting if I absolutely have to.”

“You'll need a plank, eventually.”

“I think I can decide for myself when I do.”

  
_“What if the plank breaks and I'm not rested yet? What if I'm still tired, what if-”_

_“You can't control what happens to the plank, when it breaks. You can't control everything in your life, Maria. If you're not rested yet and the strongest plank breaks, you'll find a weaker one and lay on that for a while. But you're strong, your limbs can swim for a very long time before they need another rest and they'll recover quickly, if you give them a chance to. Maybe you can even try to change your pace and your stroke, to learn what works better for you.”_

_“Okay, I thought I was kinda getting the metaphor but now I feel like I'm lost again.”_

_“You can't control the plank, Maria. You can't control other people. We're working here to make your arms stronger – to make you stronger. To cope with everything that happened to you.”_

_Maria nodded. She understood then._

_“I can't control what happens to me. I can only control how I react to it.”_

  
**[March 29th, 2003 – New York City]**

Natasha never knocked. So Maria was surprised to see her through the peephole when she went to answer the door.

“Hey.”

“Nat. Why did you knock?”

“I didn't know if you wanted me to come in. I didn't know if the door would be chained, so I thought I'd do the polite thing, for a change.”

“The door is never chained. I know you might stop by, I never do that. You have a key – even though I know you never use that. One fight doesn't change everything we said and everything we agreed on, Natasha. Remember? You told me-”

“-this place feels like home to me, too.”

“Exactly. You never have to knock. Come on,” she motioned for Natasha to get inside.

The night went on smoothly, they didn't fight, they didn't argue. But there was something stuck in the air between them. There was something in the room and sucking out life from the air.

_  
“Do you drown?”_

_“I swim.”_

  
The fact was, Maria wasn't sure anymore. What if drowning was easier? What if she didn't want to swim anymore? She didn't want the plank either. Not the strongest one, not any other one. She wanted to float, to let the waves carry her adrift.

“How long are you staying?” She heard herself ask.

Maria knew Natasha was doing her best. Maria was doing her best, too.

“Just for a couple of days.”

Natasha knew it was almost over.

She could feel the walls closing in, she could feel herself almost trapped. She knew it was coming before it even approached.

“I have an interview this week. Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.”

“Quite a mouthful, isn't it?”

“I told them they should use an acronym.”

“They should.”

“Yeah. But what kind of name would that be for a government agency?” Maria chuckled to herself. “S.H.I.E.L.D.,” she muttered.

Natasha blamed herself for everything. Natasha blamed herself and thought for all that time it was something she said or did that was going to cost her Maria, but it wasn't going to go that way, apparently.

“ _This is how I lose her. To S.H.I.E.L.D., her one true love. This is how I lose her. When she turns into the person she is now, a person who can't love me anymore._ ”

Once Maria left to become a part of that, she would never look back. Once she accepted that job, any contact between them could be classified as treason on Maria's part in the present. And for all the pain Natasha cost her, she would never allow this to happen to Maria.

Their time was almost up.

  
**[April 3rd, 2003 – New York City]**

“Happy birthday, love.”

Maria smiled that blinding smile reserved for her and that evening, just one evening, everything seemed perfect again. Like Natasha wasn't losing fragments of memory, snippets of time. Like she wasn't starting to go insane, the past mingling with her present, her future, she wasn't even sure which was which anymore by that point.

Maria was her future.

That was the only thing she had always been sure of.

But Maria only existed in her past.

What was her future, then, if not a void, empty space in her chest, filled with dread? Filled with hope, crushed and destroyed? She built it all up, then tore it all down. It was near, it was almost the end of them.

“I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything,”

“Never forget how much I loved you, Maria. Never forget how deeply in love we fell, how deeply in love we have been all this time.”

“I could never. Never, Natasha. Promise you won't forget either.”

“Never. I'll always remember you. My time with you. I'll erase anything else to make room for the memories of you, if one day I ran out of bandwidth.”

She honestly would. Natasha was starting to forget Giza, Beijing, even the memories of her hometown were starting to fade. But every second spent with Maria was still there, they would always be there, for she would cherish them and keep them close to her heart. Not one detail would be allowed to fade in her mind. Every single fragment of their story was essential to Natasha; she knew all of them by heart.

“You saved my life,” Natasha told her, one last time.

Maria heard it. The unspoken ending. Natasha didn't need to say it, because Maria knew, it was a lesson she had to learn long before. Maria knew.

_Sometimes you're meant to save someone's life and not meant to spend the rest of it with them._

Knowing that it happened didn't make it easier to accept that it would be them. That they were among the ones who wouldn't make it.

Natasha slept with her ear on Maria's chest, listening to her heartbeat, trying to memorize the rhythm so she could count it on her sleepless nights, to calm herself down and trick herself into believing Maria was still there while she was closing her eyes.

“You saved mine, too.”

  
**[April 13rd, 2003 – New York City]**

If the first one was an argument, then the second was a fight. But the third one? The third one was a war.

“The assignments are far and wide. I would give up my lease, go live in their headquarters. The base is here in New York, but I wouldn't be here much. The man who recruited me said an assignment might come up soon and I might spend a lot more time up in the sky than down here on land.”

“Are you going to take the job?”

Natasha was sure she knew the answer. She practiced it in her mind more than the question itself, she knew she was going to ask Maria, she had to ask Maria, so she repeated the answer in her own head to make it hurt less when she had to hear it out loud.

But the answer she was waiting for never came.

“Maria? Are you going to-”

“I don't know.”

“It's the job you wanted, it fits perfectly.”

“I don't-”

It was childish and stupid and God, hope was an awful thing. It was the worst thing, Maria thought, it was a feeling she was never allowing herself ever again.

“What if I don't? What if I turn down the job?”

It hung there, between them, that unanswered question. If Maria didn't take the job and Natasha left her own, they could be together then.

“If I take the job, this is goodbye,” Maria said instead.

If Maria didn't take the job, Natasha knew it, she would never become the woman she loved, the woman who fought an army single-handedly, who started a war to save her. The woman she traveled through time to meet and get to know in the first place. If Maria didn't take the job, she wouldn't become the person Maria wanted to be.

How could Natasha live with that? What kind of person would she be if she let Maria turn it down?

“I think you should take the job,”

_  
“I can't control what happens to me. I can only control how I react to it.”_

_The psychiatrist nodded._

_“But what if, one day, I don't remember where the shore is anymore? What if I'm not even sure there ever was a shore at all? What do I do then?”_

_“Does it matter where you're headed? Right in the middle of the ocean, you'll never see the shore anyway. When you're at sea, it sometimes doesn't matter whether you're headed in the right direction or not, because the pressing matter is another one.”_

_“That if you don't swim, you drown.”_

_The woman nodded again. “So you keep swimming anyway, even when you're not sure you're headed in the right direction, or that there's a direction at all. You keep swimming anyway, because if you stop swimming-”_

_“-you sink.”_

  
Then, the war started. The chaos, the fight, everything they had to say started coming up and it couldn't be bottled back that time.

Maria ended it, as Maria did, with carefully chosen words.

“I can't do this anymore. I can't. You've always been one foot in and one foot out the door. Half present and half already gone. I can't- we can't do this anymore. Either you're all in or you're all out, Natasha.”

Natasha didn't want to be all out. Truth be told, Natasha didn't want to be even slightly out, she didn't want to be half gone at all. But she could not be all in. Not right then, anyway. Not in the past, not in that moment of their lives.

“I wish I could stay,”

That had to count for something. It did count for something, as a matter of fact. Maria would always remember those words. That Natasha wanted to stay. It didn't always make it better, when the pain in her chest made her want to drown, but sometimes it made swimming a little easier. Maria took it for what it was. A wish for a possibility they would never have.

“I'll always keep the chain off the door, Nat.”

“You'll always be my home.”

There was a distance, an unclosable distance beyond the few feet between Maria and the door Natasha was standing in front of. A distance that seemed to span entire worlds. Beyond universes. Beyond words.

“I'll always be in love with you.”

“I'll always be in love with you back.”

  
Natasha didn't stop to sleep or cry or calm her breath. She didn't ponder her options, she didn't look for a way out or a way back that time.

“ _T_ _his is how I lose her. Not for something I did wrong. But because life just wouldn't allow us._ ”

She couldn't see Maria again, not in the past.

So she was done with the past entirely.

“ _It wasn't time for us. It might never be time for us._ ”

With no further hesitation, she jumped back to her present, ready to face another war.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come yell at me how awful I am on tumblr or in the comments (or both!)


	27. Broken Hearts Are Born in Pairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Recap](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/b7ez16qdd9py8kr/DK-Timeline%20%28Ch.%2026%29.jpg?dl=0) by [mldcmx](http://mldcmx.tumblr.com/) **NB:** yellow is what happened in the last chapter if you just need a quick reminder! (I can't properly express my amazement and admiration for this!  <3)  
>   
> And to my wonderful and beloved [beta](http://cocoa-n-donuts.tumblr.com/): I cannot thank you enough but I'll keep trying forever!  
> 

**[April 30th, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

_“Natasha, don't you dare jump!”_

_“You know I will. This is my nature.”_

_Maria put her gun back into its holster, before picking up the handcuffs from Fury's desk._

_“She'll be back in twenty-four seconds max, and I'll have these back on her wrists immediately. Then, I'm taking her to the Web Thread, until we figure out if she's on our side or not.”_

_Fury nodded, “You're in charge of the team again. Figure this out quickly. There's a war coming with the Red Room, we can't afford internal conflict, too.”_

_Maria nodded. “Yes, sir.”_

_She turned to the point where Natasha had disappeared a moment before. And they waited for those few seconds that seemed like an eternity in Maria's mind._

  
Twenty second passed. Maybe even less. As soon as she turned to the spot Natasha jumped from, there Natasha was again.

She had expected a fierce, satisfied look. She had defeated them, she had won. They failed in keeping her restrained.

But when Natasha appeared again, her face was devastated before she could school it into some semblance of disinterest. She looked like her entire world had just crumbled to pieces. She lifted her wrists and waited until Maria had secured the handcuffs around them to lower them again.

“I'm ready now. You can lock me up.”

“You can count on that,” Maria tugged her out of the room and towards the lab with the Web Thread. “I'm locking you in and throwing away the key. You're never getting out again.”

The rest was kind of a blur to Natasha. It was minutes, hours, she had no idea for the first time in her life of how much time had gone by. When she became aware of her surroundings again, it was night outside and the lab was empty.

Footsteps alerted her someone was coming to see her.

She couldn't bring herself to care.

“Can I have ten minutes before you start to pump truth serum into my veins? Just ten fucking minutes to mourn the loss.”

She was sitting on the floor of the Thread, her temple pressed against the cold glass, her hands hugged her knees to her chest.

The agent paused. Sighed. Then sat down on the floor, facing Natasha, his own forehead pressing to the opposite side of the glass as their eyes met.

“Your freedom isn't lost. It's just- temporarily lifted.”

Natasha wanted to point out that freedom shouldn't be a privilege that could be suspended at will when her superiors deemed convenient to do so. But then again, it had always kind of been that way for her, she wasn't truly free even when she was, always bearing the weight of the handcuffs on her wrists.

It was just a different kind of cage.

Right then, it was both. She had both the cage and the handcuffs – no risks could be taken anymore, so it seemed.

“It's not my freedom I'm mourning.”

The question hung between them. _What are you mourning then?_ Clint didn't ask. He didn't pressure her into an answer she wasn't ready to give; instead, he patiently waited for her to offer the answer on her own.

“I lost her, Clint. I- I loved her and-” she stopped, unsure of what the feeling meant, that dread that filled her stomach.

“Five days ago, you didn't even want to say goodbye to her on your way out of the Helicarrier, now you love her?” Clint whispered. Her eyes dropped but he kept looking softly at her. “Nat. You didn't lose her either. She started this war to keep you safe. She'd end the world to keep you safe.”

“I know she loved me back, Clint.”

“Then what's the problem?”

Natasha thought back to Christina, to the words that had been accompanying her ever since she first heard them.

_She shaped the very heart of you._

“I loved her,” she repeated, her voice defeated, “and it wasn't enough,” she almost shrugged, like she thought she should have expected it to end up like that. “I loved her. I went against everything I was ever taught, I tried and I bent. And it didn't save me, it didn't change the present or the future, or the past- it didn't change anything at all!” a bitter, cynical laugh left her lips. “I love her and it isn't enough.”

The lab was silent for a long time.

Then she saw something shift in her peripheral vision. Clint had raised a hand and pressed his fingertips on the glass.

“Who says it wasn't? You're light years away from the girl we first saw in this cage. You loved her and it’s changed you. How is that not enough?”

She shook her head. It didn't change her enough. It didn't change the terrible things that were about to come. It didn't change the present, it just made it harder for her to live with Maria's animosity that came from betrayal.

“I'm really glad I didn't let you die.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “I'm really glad you didn't, too.”

Natasha lift her hand, pressing her fingertips against Clint's, only the glass preventing them from making contact.

“She shaped me. I'm who she made me.”

“Does that scare you?”

She shook her head. “You're right. I might not be good, but I'm eons away from who I was before her. But I shaped her, too. She's who I made her. The betrayal, the hurt, all those lies and the breach of trust; _I'm_ why I'm in this cage.”

“This is what scares you,” Clint realized. “You're better because of her, and she-”

“She's worse because of me. She's who I made her.”

Clint pressed his fingers harder against the glass, but no matter how insistent his touch was, Natasha couldn't feel the warmness of his skin.

  
**[May 1st, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Clint had been gone for a long time and outside the sun was barely starting to make an appearance, when another set of footsteps came into the room.

The silence lingered long beyond what Natasha deemed bearable.

“What is going to happen to me?”

A long moment passed.

“Agent Carter will take your statement later today. We'll fill in some classified records of your whereabouts, see if they check out, see if it's even remotely possible for you to be telling the truth.”

Maria's voice was so very tired, but still professional, almost detached.

“That's not what I meant.”

Maria stalled for a second, “Fury will decide what happens to you.”

“That's not-”

“Then what exactly are you asking me, Agent Romanoff?”

Natasha's eyes snapped up at that name. Maria was looking at her with unreadable eyes, standing her ground. Natasha looked back at the space ahead, her temple resuming its place against the glass of her cell.

“You saw what a discharge in the Red Room looked like,”

“What?” Maria whispered.

“Your first apartment in New York? Those men who paid you a visit and then killed themselves when you handed their asses to them?”

That gave her pause, her facade slipping.

_“God_ , Natasha, no. No, we're not _executing_ you,” Maria lost her composure just for a second, then went back to her cold demeanour.

“Is it not sometimes a kinder fate?”

Maria scoffed. “This prison is not so bad. You can thank Simmons and Fitz for that, because if I have any say in the matter, you'll spend a very, very long time in there.”

Natasha smiled. A faint, ironic, smirk that she would have probably punched off of her own face, if she was Maria. She slowly, ever so slowly, got up and turned towards the other Agent in the room, pressing her left hand to the glass between them.

“Nobody dictates where I am but me. Not anymore.”

Maria stared at her for a long moment, then a light chuckle left her lips. “You almost had me there, Romanoff. Too bad those words are trapped in the prison you're into.”

Natasha kept the smirk on her face.

Maria pressed on. “If you had any idea on how to escape those handcuffs or that cage, you would have done so, a long time ago. You would have taken the intel you needed from us and then your double-agent ass would have gone back to your Red Room friends in no time, I'm sure.”

That was enough to anger Natasha to no end. But still, as the smirk disappeared, she didn't move an inch.

Seeing her reaction, finally having wiped the smirk off her face, Maria continued.

“At least I know where we stand. The first time I trusted you, that was your fault. You were good at deceiving me, at making me think you truly ever gave a damn about me, I'll give you that. But this second time, this is on me. Everything we lose because of this, it's on me. I should have never believed a word you said. You wanted to atone, redeem yourself, make amends. It was all a lie, wasn't it? We were just another one of your lies.”

That was the thing that made her snap. Not the accusation of betrayal, not the double-agent remark, not even the betrayal of trust. But the insinuation that her feelings towards Maria were a lie-- that she could not stand for.

A cold, emotionless laugh left her lips before she could hold it back.

“Do you think I would be here, if I didn't want to be?”

Those words, said almost in amusement, like the very concept was such an absurd one, resonated between them for a long moment, sending a cold shiver down Maria's spine.

“I surrendered, Maria. I gave myself up to you and your people locked me up. And I allowed it, because I wanted to be here- I needed to be here, where you are,” she pressed the index finger of her right hand against the glass, pointing at Maria. “Have you really, ever believed a thin wall of glass could keep me here? Maybe before- when I was Natalia or when I was weaker. But now? Oh, Maria.”

In a second, Natasha disappeared and reappeared behind Maria, the prison was powerless in holding her back and apparently so were the handcuffs. She became too powerful to be restrained by something that merely weakened her powers.

Maria swiftly turned around to face her, and found herself pressed between the glass and Natasha, as one of the redhead's hands came to rest on the glass beside her head. They were close, but Natasha wasn't touching her.

“I stayed because of you. I'm here because I want to be as close to you as I can, I want to protect you. My loyalty could never falter because it's not due to obligation or threat; my loyalty lies with you. With S.H.I.E.L.D., too. With Fury, Clint, the people who treated me with humanity when all I ever saw myself as was far less than human. I'm staying because this is where I belong, whether you can still believe this or not: by your side. You're the Web Thread, now. You're the handcuffs around my wrists.”

Maria listened to every word carefully, her eyes scrutinizing Natasha's for a sign of a bluff, or a threat, but she saw none. In fact, if Natasha's words where a little harsh, her eyes stayed soft and loving and hurt.

This was her.

This was her Natasha.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Natasha jumped back inside her cage, sitting down on the floor once again, hugging her knees to her chest, pressing her temple to the glass.

She could escape. She just proved it. She could jump out, steal a key, then free herself and run off without breaking a sweat. Easy. Yet, there she was. Unmoving. Uninterested in a plan of grand escape. Unmoving on the pavement of the cell, knowing she would probably have to stay there for a long while.

“Was any of it real?” Maria's voice came almost distant, after so many silent minutes that had Natasha convinced she wasn't going to speak again.

“Every second of it.”

There was no hesitation, no regret in her voice.

“How long?”

Natasha turned her head and locked her eyes on Maria's. “From our first meeting to the 13th of April, 2003.” She saw no point in lying. Maria already knew that. “So, I guess, all of it or-”

“Not what I meant, I know how long it was for me,” she interrupted decisively. “How long was it for _you_?” Maria clarified.

Natasha took a deep breath and stood up again.

“You know the first time I saw you, in New York, that was before you rescued me from the Red Room, it was before I came here. But aside from that one time, the rest of it-”

“How. Long.” Maria demanded, not standing for Natasha's stalling.

Natasha's eyes dropped for a second. Then she looked up again. Maria knew the answer already. If she hadn't, she would have read it in her eyes right then.

“Since my first assignment. On the 16th of this month, when Fury sent me-”

“Fourteen days.”

Natasha shut up at Maria's interruption and just nodded, “Fourteen days.”

“How can you say your loyalty is with me? You loved me for, what, a week?”

_Oh, far less than that in this timeline_ , Natasha wanted to say, but didn't.

“Two and a half years I've been in love with you. You only had two weeks and you have the guts to stand here and tell me you're staying because of me?”

“All those moments you lived, I lived them, too. All the things we did together, all the places we saw, every-”

“We weren't just that, Natasha!”

“-every kiss, every 'I-love-you', everything you felt, I felt it, too. I was there, too.”

“We weren't just that,” Maria said again. “We were- we were the gaps and the waits and the days I spent wishing for you to come back safe!”

“So okay, I didn't have to wait,” Natasha conceded. “I didn't have to worry, because I knew you had your power to keep you safe. But it doesn't diminish what I felt- what I _feel_ for you. We're still us, Maria.”

Maria's forehead wrinkled and her eyes shone with something Natasha wasn't quite able to place.

“For four years, I thought you were dead,” she said quietly, her eyes on the ground at her feet. “Four years, Natasha, I had to live with that. I had to live with the thought of you accepting a stupid, complicated mission that got you killed. You didn't go on those missions anymore. You hadn't for a while, to come visit more often, like you said,” she scoffed at the thought that it was another lie. “The moment we broke it off, I thought you'd take some long, hard assignment God knows where. So I wasn't really surprised when you called, and you- _fuck_ , Nat, I hoped so hard you would make it out of wherever you were, somehow, impossibly. But the follow up call never came. I thought you were gone, Natasha. That you took that mission to get away from New York for as long as possible, get away from me. That you were there because of me. I thought you died and it was my fault.”

“What- what are you talking about, what call?”

Maria's eyes snapped to her. She frowned. Natasha shook her head. She didn't make a call like that. Not yet, at least.

Maria laughed a little bitterly and shrugged. “Well, you will make that call eventually. That's the only thing left between us.”

Natasha's confusion left her expression and she chuckled lightly. “I guess you could say that.”

Maria gave her a slightly puzzled look, it was gone as soon as it came; she didn't want to admit her interest and curiosity in everything that had to do with Natasha.

“I've been to the future. Simmons had to take my tracker out. It was fun. Spinal surgery when you're awake is a blast.”

“You've been to the _future_?”

“Ah, yes. I can do that too, now. I can do anything, now.” Natasha sat back down, slowly.

After a moment of hesitation, Maria walked to the cage and pressed her shoulder to the glass, looking down at Natasha.

“How's the future? Should I be worried about your remarks about the exact date in which according to you the aliens will pop by, now?”

Natasha gave her a half smile. “The future is okay. S.H.I.E.L.D. looked kinda in trouble, but they're getting through.”

“What about Clint? Sharon? Fury?”

“Didn't ask about them, Simmons was adamant we didn't discuss their present, because I shouldn't know the future. So I just saw them.”

“Simmons and Fitz?”

“Not Fitz, no.”

“They're not working together anymore?”

“They are, just not as closely. They dated for a while. Didn't work out,” Natasha admitted in a sad whisper.

“Damn,” Maria said quietly. “I have a bet with Phil about them getting together one day. I thought if any of us could make it, that would be them. What happened?”

Natasha hummed and pressed her lips together, hiding a smile. “This rebel girl with a heart of gold and hacker skills came into the picture and all bets were off.”

“Fitz fell for another girl? Talk about the impossible.”

“Not Fitz, no.”

“ _Jemma_? Damn, the future is truly unpredictable.”

Natasha chuckled, her eyes lowered again. She glanced up at Maria briefly. “I wasn't-” she looked back at her feet, then up again. “I wasn't in it. I mean I knew I wouldn't be. I know there is only one way this war can end, and now that you've mentioned the call-” she took a breath. “Anyway, she only allowed me one question and I'm glad to say the answer was all I was looking for.”

“Oh, yeah? What question was that?”

A smile played at her lips, while tears filled her eyes. “Can't tell you that, Simmons would resuscitate me in the future only to kill me again.”

They stayed in silence for a while, everything hanging between them half-said and half-unspoken, but understood anyway.

“How is it that everytime I try to be furious with you, you charm your way out of my anger?”

“'Cause you're not angry. That would be easy. You're disappointed and hurt and deep down, we both know all of that just means that even if you forgive me again, you'll never think of me what you did before. But for me, the past and the present are the same. I was with you not twelve hours ago, and I just lost you. All I wish I could do is get you back.”

Silence fell again. A long, strained silence.

“I know, Maria. I know there's no going back. Not from this.”

“Would you change it if you could? Don't lie. Would you do anything different?”

Natasha wanted to laugh and cry and scream because how was she supposed to answer that question without breaking both of their hearts?

“No. I'm sorry, I would do everything exactly the same. I lost you, and I'll have to live with that for the rest of my life, like you lived with losing me. But I would never change what I had with you. All the pain, and the loss, all the messed up things that happened to us, it was all worth it just for the moments I got to spend with you. And if I got to do it all over again, I'd do it exactly the same. I wouldn't change a thing.”

_Except maybe taking you to that Marie Antoinette's ball you wanted to go to_ , Natasha thought.

It was silent again. For a long while, Natasha waited for an answer that never came.

Maria pushed herself off of the wall and walked over to the exit.

She went, without a word, without a goodbye. She went and Natasha wasn't sure if she was ever going to get her back.


	28. Where you go, I will go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Recap](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/o6zmpn8mnrm8bln/DK-Timeline%20%28Ch.%2027%29.jpg?dl=0) by [mldcmx](http://mldcmx.tumblr.com/) whom I cannot thank enough (but I'll keep trying) <3  
>  **NB:** yellow is what happened in the last chapter if you just need a quick reminder!  
>   
>  Reminder that without my [beta](http://cocoa-n-donuts.tumblr.com/) this story would suck!  
> 

  


  


**[May 1st, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Heels clicked against the floor and Maria knew who it was before the owner’s voice even spoke.

“I shouldn't be surprised that this is where I find you,” Sharon sighed, sliding down the wall to sit beside her on the floor. “Back to staring at this painting, I see.”

Maria didn't bother with an answer to that statement.

“We could have done more. Could have wired her and listened to her. Given her a body camera for her missions.”

“You know Fury couldn't record those, Maria. If someone outside our team knew we’d captured The Black Widow-”

“That's just it, Carter. We didn't capture anything,” her laugh was bitter and strained. “She surrendered to us.”

Sharon tried not to sigh. “If we're going for technicalities, she surrendered to you, Hill.”

Maria decided not to acknowledge that sentence either, changing the topic again.

“She said she's been to the future. And I know for a fact she's gone further back than her own timeline. It's really her, isn't it?” Her eyes never left the painting in front of them. “I wanted for the rest of the world to be wrong so much, so damn much. I didn't want to believe it was her, but it is. She's the Devil's Keeper.”

Sharon wasn't able to hold back her sigh then. “She really is. But there's still time, we can still-”

“We can do nothing. Everything I've tried to do to change the past hasn't accomplished anything but make it happen exactly like it was supposed to. She's right about that, too. We cannot change the future, because her future is our past. All of it happened already.”

Sharon scratched her neck, looked up at the painting. Suddenly, she realized why Maria was so fascinated by it.

“It's the painting. She hasn't gone there, yet. The painter never saw her. She can't die, because then this wouldn't exist and nobody would know her story.”

“This is the last hurdle to cross before she dies. We have certain proof she has to meet the painter before she dies. Everything else, my memories of her, those have all burned out.”

“There's plenty of stuff. Sightings around World War I. The Roman Empire had a legend about her, some Greeks said she was the goddess of death, in the Dark Ages-”

“I know, Sharon. But those might have just been legends, at least some of them, the only concrete thing we had is...this. And it's not even the original, it's not even accurate according to Natasha. And I don't know what to do anymore, I'm out of ideas. Maybe she was right all along, 'cause whatever's about to happen feels unavoidable to me. Maybe it's all written already, maybe our paths are already set.”

Sharon was quiet for a long moment, then she got up and leaned on the wall with one shoulder, looking down at Maria.

“I remember when we started working here, how distant and closed off you were. Still are. Phil thought you might be a robot, you were so focused and driven, so good at being in charge,” she paused when Maria finally looked up at her. “May told him that's who you become when you lose your someone on your team, that it makes you hard and sharp around the edges. We never dug up your records, thought you'd talk to us when you were ready.”

“It did make me hard and sharp, but there was still- there was a softness there when Natasha was around, I guess. When she died, she took that softness from me.”

“But she didn't. She didn't die, Maria.”

The “Not yet” that followed hung between them like a sword above their necks.

“That softness, it's hidden but it's still there,” Sharon continued. “The point is, when you lose someone, you get sharp. The fear of losing someone else keeps you on your toes and hardens you to the point where mistakes aren't conceivable. Natasha being here, the things she had just lived in your past, it's bringing the softness to the surface. And it's good, great even, but it's not the right time. We need you in charge, Hill, we need you sharp and on your toes, because she's on our team, you're the commander, and we're not going to lose her. You must be the driven, focused and brave Maria we know. You can't be afraid, after we bring the Red Room down, then we save Natasha.”

Maria nodded, then looked at the painting again.

“After the Red Room's down, we might not need to anymore.”

The implication was clear: Maria doubted Natasha would be able to walk out of there alive. But the painting was right there, the proof that there was still time, that there was still hope.

“We move forward. Today.” Maria's voice was sharp and hard and commanding. It left no room for doubt or questioning.

Sharon nodded and walked out so she could gather their team around the Web Thread.

  
**[April 21st, 2003 – New York City]**

Maria walked into the Triskelion on Monday morning with a heavy heart. She was still staring at her phone's screen, when a voice made her snap out of her mindless walking.

“Good morning, you must be Agent Hill. Welcome to the Triskelion,” a man greeted her, shaking her hand. “You're the first one here, the other new agents will be here shortly.”

She couldn't hear a word he said. Her mind was still fully focused on the phone conversation she just had.

Natasha Romanoff might be dead.

“Please, follow me to the training area.”

Natasha Romanoff might be _dead_.

“Agent Hill?”

_Natasha Romanoff might be dead._

“Agent Hill, are you feeling alright? This place can be overwhelming-”

“I'm fine,” Maria lied quickly. “Let's go.”

Natasha might be dead. She was still so young. She never got to do all the things she wanted to do: she never got to go back to Russia to see what was left of her parents' place; she wasn't able to pay her debt, whatever it was, to the American Government; she had never been to the Caribbeans; she never got to eat a bratwurst hotdog in Munich like she said she wanted to do as the first thing if they went there, like she had with the Baguettes in Paris.

Maria wasn't even sure Natasha had ever really felt perfectly content.

Maria wished she could have made Natasha feel like that someday. Like everything was finally where it was supposed to be. Like they were finally where they were supposed to be.

But it might have been too late.

Natasha was gone.

Maria realized it then, absurdly, that she didn't even have a picture to remember her love by. All that was left was a handwritten note Natasha once left for her and the miniature of the Eiffel Tower Maria still had on her nightstand. Nothing else.

Natasha was gone.

  
Her house was silent and empty. She went home that evening almost expecting Natasha to be there, to tell her she was doing okay and that call was nothing more than a temporary set back in the tacit deal they made; of not reaching for the other unless it was finally the right time for them to be together-- or to tell the other that time would never come.

Natasha broke the deal to call her. Her voice was weak and broken in a way Maria had never heard it before. She knew, in her heart, what it meant. She knew Natasha wouldn't, couldn't be there waiting for her. She knew what happened.

Yes, Natasha was gone.

Looking around at the scarce decorations, the few pictures she kept around the living room – none of which had Natasha in it – she realized it was like Natasha had never been there at all.

  
**[April 24th, 2003 – New York City]**

The first few days at work went by almost on auto-pilot; she would do the task she was assigned in the quickest time possible, then switched to the next one. It kept her busy, distracted from the fear that it was all going to fall apart.

Maria was familiar with the feeling of loosing someone. A soldier, a brother, a loved one. She knew the anthem by heart, she heard the bagpipe playing at night, sometimes, when everything was still and dark and silent, the music in her ears wouldn't stop. She had been on the outer side of the door, with a flag in her hands and the words on her lips.

“I'm sorry for your loss.”

It was as if someone had lost something insubstantial, like the person on the inside of the house couldn't find their keys anymore. Sometimes death looked like that. Like a pair of keys nobody seemed able to find anywhere. No body, no clothes, nothing to deliver except for a brand new flag and some words every parent feared.

She was the one standing on the inside of the door, now. Waiting for a flag that would never be delivered to her. She wondered if maybe someone knew. Maybe someone was mourning Natasha the way she deserved, with a flag at a door and an empty casket lowered into the ground.

Maria knew that part of the Bible by heart, she remembered it from Connor's funeral, his brother crying silently while his wife was reading it. Maria felt like she had lost a brother, too. He was always the one cracking jokes even when they were walking amongst mines.

“ _Do not urge me to leave you or turn back from following you; for where you go, I will go, and where you lodge, I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried_.”

Nobody would give her a flag. There would be no bagpipes, no Bible passages, no funeral.

Just the memory of Natasha's shaking voice lulling her to sleep at night and the knowledge that, whatever her debt had been, it was paid off now. Repaid with her own life. And if there was one thing Maria had learned from the army, it was probably that; the promised freedom often presented itself in the form of death.

  
**[May 22nd, 2003 – New York City]**

She slipped into a new routine at work. Her training was almost over and soon she would be sent away on a new S.H.I.E.L.D. project that her superior officer was referring to as “the Helicarrier”, and whatever it was Maria was sure it would take a lot of time to have it up and running, so she packed the essentials, stored the rest of her stuff, and terminated her lease. She would leave the apartment behind, in  the hope that some memories would stay behind, and stop tormenting her day and night. 

It was her last night there, her last night home.

She got ready, settled the clothes for the next day on her chair, brushed her teeth. Then she walked to the front door and stared at the chain.

She never locked it.

Never once had she slid the chain in its place.

It was always off, in case Natasha decided to drop by at an absurd time at night – it wouldn't be the first time, after all.

She hadn't heard from her in weeks. It had been more than a month from that call and nothing happened since. Everyday that went by without news only cemented the fear rooted in her heart that she would never hear from Natasha, ever again.

And yet.

And yet, the chain hung loose on its spot against the wood, never put in its proper place, never locked. She could never bring herself to slide it in. It would mean that everything was over and done with between the two of them, it would mean she no longer had any hope for Natasha to just come back one day with a smile on her lips and an excuse on her tongue. A pathetic attempt to justify something absurd that Maria would gladly accept, because not doing so meant letting Natasha go for good.

But Maria knew she wouldn't. Not this time.

Natasha was gone.

Natasha was dead.

But it was just one more night. One more night hoping. One more night waiting.

Natasha might be gone, but she wasn't ready to let her go. Letting go of the chain as it rattled against the wood, still off the door, Maria realized she might never be ready to let Natasha go.

  
**[July 14th, 2003 – S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, location classified]**

The Helicarrier was quiet. At least some parts of it were, and Maria found a spot perfect for those moments she needed to spend alone. Aside from the engines and the occasional agent walking by, nobody would ever disturb her in those hiding spots.

Until her fellow recruit, one Agent Carter, started to discover them one by one.

“Any relation to _that_ Agent Carter?”

“If you're implying I've been recruited because my aunt found the organization-”

“Not at all. I was merely curious.”

“May is looking for you.”

“What for?”

“Some new assignment, something to do with animals, spiders maybe? Phil's coming too.”

Maria nodded. They were silent for a long moment, then Sharon tried to break the tension starting to settle between them.

“You lost someone.”

It was said almost casually, but it wasn't a question. It was a quiet remark, the words hung between them like a rope about to snap.

“Was it someone on your team or-”

“Does this have anything to do with our mission?” Maria abruptly interrupted her.

Sharon fell silent.

“I didn't think so,” Maria said. “So, if it's not relevant, I'd rather you not ask. We're not friends, Carter. We're coworkers. That's what we're doing here, what we'll always be doing here. You don't become a good spy by making friends. I'm sure your aunt has taught you that.”

Without another word, Maria walked away, resolving to find another hiding spot that Carter wouldn't be able to find so easily. She clutched the miniature Eiffel Tower in her pocket and walked quickly to the conference room May usually booked for their briefings.

No more friends. No more feelings. No more liabilities.

Nobody else would ever suffer because of her.

**  
[November 21st, 2003 – S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, location classified]**

“I mean, we've known her for six months now, but what do we _really_ know about her?”

It was Phil Coulson's voice, Maria recognized it immediately. The open door of the conference room allowed every sound to filter into the hallway she was standing into.

“She was in the army,” Carter's voice reached her ears next. “There's a certain stance you don't default to unless you’d served.”

“She scares the crap out of me,” Phil said. “Maybe she's a robot, maybe that's S.H.I.E.L.D.'s newest experiment: robot-soldiers.”

“You're such an idiot. If she was a man you'd be calling her driven and focused, but since she's a woman you think she's cold-hearted and a bitch,” Sharon said.

“No, I do think she's driven and focused, she's just also a robot.”

A third voice interrupted the bickering. “She lost someone. On her team, probably. You don't get attached to people you know you're going to lose, she thinks we'll be gone soon enough. The less she knows us, the less she'll have to mourn us once we're gone.”

“Geez, May, that's dark. Pass me another beer.”

“It's true, though. You lose enough people, you learn not to make friends with them. You don't pet the pigs if you work in a slaughterhouse.”

“Jesus Christ, May.”

“What? It's true. How many agents older than fifty do you see around here? In our line of job, either make friends with the best ones or don't bother at all.”

“You're twisted, you know that right?”

“Maybe she did lose someone,” Carter spoke again after being silent for the last part of the conversation. “But she's not going to lose us, so she'll have to come around eventually.”

“Why are you two so hell-bent on being her friends anyway?”

“Because May's right. She's been through some stuff, probably. And we will too, soon enough. You don't live in a slaughterhouse without getting your hands a little bloody every once in awhile. The only way we can make it here is if we're there for each other. Hill's one of us, whether she likes it or not.”

“Where's Bobbi by the way? We're almost out of beers.”

Maria saw the movement before she felt the hand on her shoulder. She turned her head to see Agent Morse stand next to her. She motioned to the door a few feet away with her head.

“Come on. Let's have a beer. You don't even have to say a word to us if you don't want to.”

Maria thought about it for a second. Then, she realized she was still going to see these people every damn day for quite a lot of time. She didn't have a say in that. But she did have a say in what that time would mean for that new team.

“I'd be a fool to turn down free booze, we don't get much of that up in the air.”

Bobbi smiled and led her to the conference room.

“Oh, speak of the devil, here she is with our beers!” Phil greeted them. “Hill,” he nodded in her direction. “Joining us?”

Maria shrugged and walk into the room alongside Bobbi. “Can't let you drink all of Morse's secret stash, can I?”

Carter smiled up at her and Maria realized that maybe that was the most important lesson Natasha had ever taught her. That just because you know something is temporary, doesn't make it any less important. Or any less real.

****  


** [August 1st, 2005 – S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, location classified] **

It sometimes felt impossible that so much time had gone by. Two years without Natasha. She still felt the wounds open up again, sometimes. She would find herself staring at the ceiling in the darkness of her own room, a tear or two falling down her cheeks, random memories making their way back.

Like the one time she gave Natasha a piggy back ride across the streets of New York City in pursuits of some churros. Like the time they ate baguettes in Paris. Like the sunset they saw above Rome, when she thought she would get to marry Natasha someday.

It all seemed so silly, then. After that much time. After that much rationalization.

They never stood a chance to last, Maria knew that now. But it still hurt. It still felt unbearable to know that there was nothing they could have done to make it work. Or maybe there was. They just hadn't been able to find it in time.

She still had that miniature Eiffel Tower on her nightstand. She still had that note Natasha left her, tucked in the middle of Natasha's favorite book.

_Didn't want to wake you, had to go check in for the mission. Please take care of yourself. -Nat._

She opened up “The Picture of Dorian Grey” just to re-read that same note again, despite knowing it by heart, she almost expected some of the words to change, somehow. It was maybe the handwriting, that brought Maria comfort. It was proof Natasha existed, that she'd been there, despite the lack of any focused or full-faced pictures.

Natasha didn't leave much behind, but Maria treasured every little piece of her still in her possession. Every piece of clothing Natasha used to borrow now rarely left her shelves in fear of being ruined forever; every decoration Natasha bought over the years, stocked safely in storage, every gift cherished.

Her absence was always noticed, her voice always whispering in the back of Maria's head.

And on the worst nights, when she thought she couldn't do it anymore, when she felt she was one more memory away from her chest bursting open, she swore she almost heard Natasha's voice in the darkness of her bedroom, whispering that everything was going to be alright.

Tragically, life went on.

Maria wished it didn't, but it happened nonetheless. She had a job she loved, her team was working wonders, and her career was slowly but steadily moving forward.

She would have to let go of the past, one day. Not just ignoring her feelings and Ian's calls like she had been doing for months, but actually move on.

She got into her room after another impossible day on the field and tossed her clothes aside quickly, took a brief shower, then headed to bed. She laid there on her side, her cheek brushing the pillow, her hair still a little wet, wishing more than anything else in the world that Natasha could still be alive. Not there, not in love with her, not even perfectly safe, but at least alive, somehow, somewhere.

The memory of her strained voice on the phone was still so vivid, so lucid, like instead of two years it had been two hours. She would never forget that call.

Her hand clutched the bed sheet and she snapped her eyes closed, trying to get rid of those thoughts. Why couldn't she just stop thinking about her? Sure, they'd been in love, but it was two years before. Why was it all still so present and vivid?

Deep down, Maria knew the answer to that.

She knew the pain would lessen over time, the ache would dull and the memories less haunting. But it would never completely go away for good. She would never really be able to move on and be done with it, because Natasha was the love of her life. You don't just forget something like that.

  
**[February 17th, 2007 – S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, location classified]**

“Fury wants to see us. Apparently he has some new toy he wants the team to babysit. Another way he thinks he's going to find the Devil's Keeper, who knows, it might even work on some level, one of these times.”

“How did you find me, Carter?”

“Haven't you learned yet, Hill? There's no place in this whole ship I wouldn't be able to locate you, I know all your hiding spots.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Maria smirked, but didn't look back at Sharon, she kept instead staring into the sky.

“Are you alright?”

Maria shrugged, her eyes tracing the horizon. It had been four years.

It became easier. She didn't feel like the world would crush her anymore. Some days were still hard, but the pain was dull.

Natasha's memories were always with her, filling her heart with the reminder that love was worth it, life was worth it. She didn't want to love someone else, that wasn't the point, she knew Natasha had been the one for her. Their time together had been short and she sometimes wished they'd had more, but what they had was enough for Maria to carry with her the rooted knowledge-- that what she was doing, her work, her life-- it meant something. That if she could save one person, one fellow agent, one civilian, maybe it was enough.

Saving the world was an hero's job, and while little Maria was hell-bent on saving everybody, she was no hero. Maria Hill was a soldier. And Natasha made her understand it was alright to be just that.

  
**[March 8th, 2007 – S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, location classified]**

“You're being weird.”

“It's called enjoying the quiet, Carter. You should try it sometime.”

“No, it's not about you hiding in your usual spots. You seem...different.”

Truth was, Maria _felt_ different. She felt better. In the last month things were finally starting to improve, she thought a promotion might be in sight for her, and she could finally look at her past without the nagging helplessness. She felt content with what they had. Maybe they would never have the white picket fence house she promised Natasha once upon a time, but they were never really that kind of people anyway.

Maria had told Sharon bits and pieces about Natasha. What wasn't too painful or too personal, which was to say not much at all. But Sharon knew there was a girl who would forever hold Maria's heart. She didn't know much, but knew enough.

“I'm okay, Sharon. Really, it's just-” Maria looked around. The sky was clear, it was warm for an early March day. There weren't any strong winds and their last assignment was successful. The new assignment was probably going to be recon again, which was to say boring, but harmless. Spring would come soon, and it would be summer again. The air carried the promise that winter was finally behind them. “It's a beautiful day, that's all.”

Maria recognized it for what it was. She was healing.

It was a familiar concept to her, with her power having accompanied her for her whole life. It was a familiar concept for her skin, her blood, her organs. It was becoming familiar for her heart, too. The healer was finally on her way to healing again.

So it goes, time passed for her heart as well. Eventually, Natasha's memory wouldn't be a painful one anymore. She could think about her, she could smile remembering her love's eyes, but there was no trace of the sadness that once covered her memories.

Natasha would be with her, always.

That was how she could go on.

“It's just beautiful out here,” Maria said again, closing her eyes and breathing in.

Sharon's phone went off and Maria could hear her talk to Simmons on the other end of the line for a couple of seconds before hanging up.

“We have to go, they...they caught her. Hill, they caught The Devil's Keeper. She's in the Web Thread right now.”

Maria looked at Sharon to make sure it wasn't some kind of joke, but the serious expression on her face told Maria everything she needed to know. They fled the deck and got to the lab in record time, Sharon walking in, Maria close on her heels.

Then, time stopped.

There she was, like the sun peeking through above the clouds, like an oasis in the middle of the desert, and suddenly everything Maria told herself about moving on, about love, about life, it crumbled like a card castle in a summer breeze.

Nothing would ever compare. Nothing would ever come close to moving on. Because, after four years, she still imagined the same face when looking at every stranger she met. She still saw Natasha's eyes in every person she looked at.

Except, this time it wasn't just her imagination, was it?

Natasha was there.

She was alive.

She was alive, she was alive, she was alive.

She was...in the Web Thread. Natasha was inside the Web. Only the Black Widow could be caught inside the web. But that would mean- no.

No.

It couldn't be true.

There had to be a mistake. Natasha, her Natasha, she couldn't be-

Could she?

The name hung on Maria's lips and she sucked it back in, tasted its bitterness on her tongue, tried to get it out of her head. It was pointless. It kept ringing, like a phone she knew she had to answer eventually.

_ The Devil's Keeper. _

Natasha was The Devil's Keeper.

“Natasha?”

Before she even realized she was moving, her hand was on the glass.

“Who told you that name?”

It was her voice. It was her face. It was her. It was truly her.

Maria tensed, her hand immediately retracted from the glass and she straightened her shoulders while her eyes hardened.

Everything suddenly clicked, it all fit so well that Maria wasn't sure how she hadn’t thought about this earlier. Everything that had seemed unexplainable, became clear to her. The long trips, the disappearing for months at a time, the fact that when Natasha was gone, she was truly, really gone: she couldn't be reached by phone, email, text or anything else simply because when she wasn't with Maria she ceased to exist in that timeline.

Natasha wasn't real.

Maria was her target. A soon-to-be S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent she had to befriend to get close to the organization that would eventually capture her.

She had fallen into the Black Widow's threads herself. Natasha was the one standing in a cage, but Maria had never felt as trapped before in her life.

_It was all a lie._

“Maria, what's going on?” Sharon's voice sounded distant and unimportant, like it was coming from a far-away place she couldn’t quite reach.

“Have you seen her before? Do you know each other?” Phil asked her, puzzled, trying to make sense of what was happening.

May looked at him and barely moved her head sideways to prompt him to stay quiet.

Nobody else said anything for a long moment.

“Why-” Maria's voice trembled, breaking the almost reverent silence that fell in the room, and as she whispered her eyes dropped to the ground. When she lifted her gaze again, barely two seconds later, and met the other woman's eyes, there was a darkness in them that wasn't there a moment before. “Why did you do this to me?”

She had been in love with Natasha. She had mourned Natasha for years, thought about her for years. She was barely starting to heal. And now it was all breaking again.

None of it was real.

Natasha wasn't dead. That call was fake. Everything else probably was, too.

“I've never seen you before. But whatever I did to you,” Natasha actually had the guts to smirk at her, “I'm going to enjoy every second of it.”

Maria stared at her smirk, then at her eyes.

There had been a time when she would have given everything she possibly could in order to see those eyes again, just one more time.

She felt a lump in her throat as Natasha's words echoed in her mind. That twisted promise was the final proof that the woman in front of her wasn't the person Maria thought she was. She had been lying to her, deceiving her that whole time.

_You let her_ , she thought. _This is your fault._

Maria was a soldier. An agent. She should have known better than to trust someone so deeply, to listen to excuse after excuse, to be okay when she was fed one silly apology after the other. She should have figured it out sooner, how none of it was true. How everything was a lie. Every single word Natasha had ever said to her, it wasn't real.

Natasha wasn't real.

Maria felt a surge of utter rage raising in her chest. She was about to do something, or say something, anything, that would make the other woman respond. But before she could even begin to form a thought, Natasha raised a hand, wiggled her fingers, then disappeared into thin air.

The room was oddly silent for a long moment.

Nobody dared to speak and nobody knew what exactly happened or what to say to ease the tense atmosphere that settled among them.

Then, slowly, Maria seemed to make up her mind. She turned around, looked at Fury and raised her hands, fists clenched.

“Sir, you should arrest me.”

Fury eyed her, trying to figure if this was her way of joking around to break the tension, but then he remembered that Maria Hill never joked around while on the job.

“What for?”

Maria released a breath and tried not to sound too embarrassed or bitter as the words left her mouth.

“I have reason to believe that I'll be the one who sets the Black Widow free.”

_ She told me so herself,  _ Maria wanted to say.  _ She told me I set her free and I thought it was the best thing I'd ever done in my life: loving her. Now, though, now I'm starting to think it might have been the worst. _

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, back to chapter one but from Maria's POV. Let me know what you thought!


	29. La Custode del Diavolo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Recap](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/1rub1d5divg3x3x/DK-Timeline%20%28Ch.%2028%29.jpg?dl=0) by [mldcmx](http://mldcmx.tumblr.com/), the amazing person who did the chart and is keeping it updated!  
>  **NB:** yellow is what happened in the last chapter if you just need a quick reminder!  
>   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that without my [beta](http://cocoa-n-donuts.tumblr.com/) this story would probably not exist! Lova ya boo <3  
> 

 

**[May 1st, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Fury walked into the lab, knowing that what awaited him on the other side wasn't going to be amicable or diplomatic. There were a bunch of agents fighting over what should be the destiny to one of – as Natasha had became – their own.

He called the meeting, aware he wouldn't be ready for some of what may be said, but confiding that he could handle everything well enough to proceed with his plan in an admissible time.

When the door opened, two voices stood out, loudest among the others: Coulson's and Barton's. He had expected Hill to be taking a side, as well, but he wasn't overly surprised she wasn't being vocal about it.

Looking around, he realized Hill and Carter had probably just walked in, because May was quietly filling them in.

Fury cleared his voice, bringing silence back into the room.

Everyone turned to look at him, except for Natasha. She was sitting down on the floor of the Web Thread, elbows on her knees, fingers intertwined loosely, eyes casted down.

“I called this meeting because, now that Agent Romanoff has been put back into the Web, we need to decide what to do about the military base the Helicarrier is hovering on top of. There's only so much time we can stall; despite our clocking device, they'll eventually notice there's a gigantic, invisible thing in the sky.”

Coulson and Barton nodded, Carter muttered her agreement.

“Agent Hill, report.”

“Agent Morse has been scanning the base, sir. We have the planimetric measurements and we are ready to move in at your command,” Maria approached him, showing him the plan they came up with, everything already laid out on the tablet she was handing to him.

“How many agents will you need?”

Maria hesitated for a moment. “The whole team,” she answered truthfully. Then paused again, her eyes darting to the woman inside the glass cell. “Alternatively, sir, this can be a job for two agents.”

“No, no way,” Coulson stepped in their direction. “Sir, I trust Hill with my life, I do. I want to trust Romanoff, too, someday. But with all due respect, today's not that day. She's been lying and deceiving us ever since she set foot on this ship for the first time. Sending Hill alone inside that base-”

“I'm not a kid, Coulson, I can-”

“You're a friend,” he interrupted her. “That base is huge, heavily armed, almost impenetrable,” he turned to Fury again. “Send her alone with Romanoff and you're sending her to her death.”

“Agent Coulson, that's enough,” Fury's voice was severe and decisive, effectively shutting him up for good.

“What if we all go?” May suggested. “The back-up wouldn't hurt us. And Hill wouldn't be going in alone with Romanoff.”

“Sir, we know Agent Hill is in command of the mission,” Sharon said, “but you're still the one in charge. And I'd like to point out how unwise it is to send in an agent not all the other teammates trust. It could mess us up real quick.”

Maria turned to her, almost offended Sharon was the one to take Coulson's side.

“Hill?” Fury demanded.

Maria turned back to him. “She’s saved my life on numerous occasions and has always shown nothing but willingness when it came to bring down the Red Room. In fact, she's done most of the work herself. I don't see a reason to doubt that she would change allegiance now. I do, however,” she exhaled a little too loudly for her usual poise on the job, “believe she shouldn't come with us on this mission.”

Natasha's eyes snapped up for the first time since Clint and Phil had started their argument.

“I also believe she won't easily accept that, sir,” she concluded her assessment.

“Well, it's decided, then,” Coulson said. “She's staying here.”

Maria looked at him, irritated with his attitude. “Yeah? And who's gonna stop her, you?” She crossed her arms across her chest, staring him down.

“That huge prison she's sitting in should do the trick pretty easily,” he remarked.

“See, that thing was built to capture and hold the Black Widow,” Maria pointed out. “And it did. But she's not just that anymore, is she?”

Her eyes found Natasha's, her nod was almost imperceptible.

An instant later, Natasha was standing by her side, hands raised, handcuffs still in place. And yet...not those nor the cage could hold her back anymore.

A second went by, then she was back inside, sitting on the floor, nobody standing on Maria's side anymore.

“She's not a prisoner anymore,” Maria pointed out. “She's here by her own choice. And I don't think there's any proof worth more than this, that she wants to be on our side.”

For a moment, everything went quiet.

“Since when did you know-”

Maria cut Coulson's question short.

“This morning, after she got back last night I came here really early to confront her.”

Silence fell again in the room and nobody dared to talk for a long while.

“Agent Hill, I've picked you to lead this team because I deemed you an excellent agent, a capable leader, and an objective and reasonable person. Since you've been in command, you've lied, gone rogue, and hid information more times than I can count.”

“I know, sir, but-”

“No. I won't hear it. And I'm not done. Two of your agents doubted you and instead of reporting them you found proof they were right and handed yourself and Romanoff over. You rescued a hostage in an impossible situation, you took down Red Room facility after facility single-handedly and you've traveled through time with Romanoff. You went beyond and above everything I expected. Because this isn't objective or rational to you anymore. It may have never been, actually.”

Maria didn't say anything, which was an answer on its own.

“When you went rogue, it was an attempt to protect the lives of other agents, doing something you were hell-bent on doing at any cost. The thing is, you do have a team. And you're in charge. You're the leader. _Lead_. Command. But do so as best as you can. As rationally, as objectively as you're able to.”

Maria nodded, trying to understand where Fury was going.

“How can we be sure she is on our side?” Fury asked her slowly, pointing out every word to sound even more commanding than he was.

“We can't. Not really. That's the thing with trust, sir,” Clint spoke up for the first time since Fury entered the room. “Anyone in this room could be a double-agent, if you think about it hard enough or if you're paranoid enough. But you trust us, we've proven ourselves. And so has Natasha.”

“She also did lie and omitted some key stuff,” May said. “I want to trust her, too,” she added when Clint opened his mouth again. “But in this case trying to do that and see how it goes might cost us our lives.”

“There could be another way,” Maria spoke up, an idea suddenly making its way on her mind.

“Go on,” Fury encouraged, willing to hear anything that might move the argument along by that point.

“When I was on my lunch with Stark, two weeks ago, he mentioned something. A prototype. A new kind of body camera that has a live feed and a huge memory storage. For obvious reasons, the live feed wouldn't work in this case, but still, we can record Natasha's missions and when she's back in the present, the data would be automatically transferred to one of our computers. We would know if she did something she wasn't supposed to, the camera is controlled remotely and she can't tamper with it without us knowing.”

“That's-” Fury frowned. “That's actually not a bad idea, at all. It could work.”

“Romanoff?” Maria asked.

Natasha nodded. “It is a good measure. We should probably test it before we go into the Red Room facility, though.”

“Indeed,” Fury agreed. “Hill, get that camera. Romanoff, get out of there and go back to your quarters, this is pointless if it's just for show. We're not a zoo, for God's sake. Bobbi, Carter, you stay on Red Room surveillance. Coulson and Barton, you're reviewing the video once she gets back. Yes, the paperwork is punishment for the bickering, in case you were wondering. Agent May,” he looked at Melinda, who didn't even blink. “Dismissed until you're needed on strike team.”

Without even glancing back, he turned around and walked straight out of the door.

“These kids are going to be the death of me,” he muttered on his way back to his office.

 

Maria pulled at the collar of Natasha's field suit, adjusting the position of the micro camera one last time.

“Okay. We're ready,” she eventually said.

Natasha nodded, straightening her shoulders.

“Make it a quick one. Go somewhere near, stay a minute or two, then get back.”

Maria's voice was even and cold, but her eyes were betraying the uneasiness she was feeling. When she saw Natasha's eyes fluttering to Fury and back, she frowned.

“I already have my orders.”

Maria glanced at Fury, then back at Natasha.

“Okay, the camera is working,” Coulson confirmed. “Good luck, Romanoff.”

“Thank you. Be right back.”

Maria knew Natasha was supposed to go alone. Because what if she really was a double agent? What if she was trying to escape and following her was going to end up getting her killed? What if Fury was straight up sending Natasha alone into the facility below them to take down the Red Room without any back up? There were a million what ifs and Maria was comfortable with none of them.

So, despite knowing she shouldn't go, she wasn't able to help herself.

And the moment just before Natasha disappeared, she raised her arm, clutching Natasha's forearm with her hand.

A second later, they were gone.

 

**[June 21st, 1386 – A small village, France]**

Their landing was _not_ graceful.

It was not composed or easy and it wasn't like any other of the many landings Natasha had performed before. In fact, it was a disaster.

“What the hell was that, Maria!” Natasha asked furiously.

They materialized on top of a market fruit cart. A wood one, Maria noticed.

“Mon Dieu! Les deux femmes, elles sont venues de nulle part!”

They scrambled up and only when she started to dust off, Maria realized her surrounding weren't quite...normal.

“What exactly were your orders?” Maria asked, her words slow and her eyes wide.

“I was told to go as far back in time as I could go, but you cut my jump! What were you thinking! You could have killed us or-”

“Natasha.”

“-or maimed us, or-”

“Natasha.”

“-or _worse_!”

“What's worse than dead or maimed? Never mind, uh, we have a little bit of a situation on our hands.”

Natasha, finally snapping out from her annoyance, realized they were standing in the middle of a street market. And everybody was staring at them.

“Where are we?” Maria asked, then she took a better look at the clothes of the people around them. “ _When_ are we?”

“France. 1300. I can't say exactly the year.”

“I'm sorry.” Maria was struggling to breathe, “I'm sorry, 1300?”

“C'est elle!” A woman pointed at Natasha. “C'est le diable!”

“What are they saying?” Maria whispered. “Am I hearing right? She's saying-”

“That I'm the devil,” Natasha confirmed. “Yeah. All those stories were super fun in the dark ages, I was a legend.”

A small crowd had gathered around them.

“Elle a les cheveux rouges, elle est venue de nulle part! Ça doit être elle!”

“Mais qui est l'autre femme?”

“Red hair, appeared from thin air. Must be her,” Natasha translated for Maria. “They're wondering who you are.”

“Yep, got that part, thank you,” Maria said, her French not perfect but good enough. “What do we do?”

“I don't know, Maria. We can just go back.”

“You're vitals aren't back to normal. You jump now, we might not make it back.”

“I know that. But we might not make it if we don't go back, too.”

She pointedly stared in the direction of two knights gripping their swords and starting to walk towards them. Another one was pulling back the arrow on his bow.

“Okay, say something. Talk to them.”

“Talk to them, Maria, are you insane? How is that going to convince them-”

“Just do it! Just say something to calm them down, you're good at negotiation.”

“Okay, okay. Alright.” Natasha cleared her voice and raised her hands to show that she was unarmed. “S'il vous plaît, ne vous inquiétez pas! Nous ne faisons que passer. N'ayez pas peur. Nous nous en allons maintenant.” _Please, do not worry! We were only passing by. Do not be afraid. We will be on our way now._

“Vous n'allez nulle part!” _You’re not going anywhere!_ The man with the bow said loudly.

“Alright, so that could have sounded more convincing, probably.”

“Nat, you only told them we were passing by, they _saw_ us appear out of thin air!”

“Why don't _you_ talk to them.”

“Tuez-la,” one of them said. “Tuez-la et vous serez un héros!”

A cold shiver ran down Maria's spine at that.

 _Kill her_ , the man said. _Kill her and you'll be a hero._

“S'il vous plaît,” _Please,_ Maria said, stepping in front of Natasha. “Écoutez-moi!” _Listen to me!_ She wasn't breathing okay. Everything was happening too fast. “Elle n'est pas la personne que vous croyez!” _She’s not the person you think she is!_

Her accent was heavy, her French hadn't improved that much since their holiday in Paris together, but she practiced it in Belgium and she could make them understand what she meant, at least she hoped so.

And although they did understand her, they did not believe her.

“C'est le diable!”

“Arrêtez-la!”

The voices mingled together and Maria was at a loss of things she could do. There was no reasoning with people who actually believed Natasha to be the personification of the devil, nor could they deny they saw her appear out of nowhere because they did.

“Are there no people with flaming red hair in this century or what?” Natasha muttered under her breath.

“I think it's the materializing out of thin air that gave us away,” Maria pointed out coldly.

“Ah, right. That.”

It all happened really fast.

A woman yelled something and there was a sound that prompted them both to go into their fight stances. It was probably just a carriage passing nearby, but it was a strange noise neither of them was accustomed to, so it immediately triggered their fight response.

The archer didn't hesitate, an arrow flew through the air and firmly planted itself into Natasha's left shoulder. When she was knocked a step back by the force of the impact, a second arrow embedded itself into her abdomen.

“No!”

Maria turned to her, grabbing her into her arms, trying to keep her upright. If she fell the wrong way, the arrows could lacerate internal organs and do more damage than what they already had. Her hand immediately flew to the shoulder arrow, grabbing the tip.

“Can you stay upright? We need to-”

“Maria.”

“-we need to get these out.”

“Maria, I don't-”

“Don't you dare.”

“Masha.”

That effectively shut Maria up.

“Just let me say this, just this once.”

Maria shook her head, snapping the tip off the arrow and getting it out.

Everyone was standing still, staring at the mysterious woman who was helping the time-traveler even if they were all sure she was the devil herself.

“I'm- _fuck!_ ”

Maria quickly yanked the arrow out, moving to the arrow in Natasha’s abdomen , snapping that too.

“I'm sorry. I am. You deserved better than what I could – oh, _shit_ – than what I could give you.”

“Shut up.”

“And you're-”

“Shut. _Up_.”

Maria's eyes were fixed on a point in her uniform. Natasha realized what Maria was staring at. Her camera. All of this would be recorded.

“Elle l'a enlevé!” _She took it out._

“N’est-elle pas sensible à la douleur?” _Doesn't she feel pain?_

“Bien sûr qu'elle n’y est pas sensible, c’est le diable.” _Of course she doesn't, she's the devil._

Natasha looked away from Maria's eyes and into the crowd.

“Qu’est-ce qui vous fait dire ça?” She asked, breath ragged, eyelids heavy, leaning her weight almost completely on Maria. “Qu’ai-je fait pour vous convaincre que je suis le diable?”

_What makes you say that? What did I do to make you believe I'm the devil?_

Nobody answered for a moment. Then, the voice of a woman in the back rose above the crowd.

“Parce que, partout où tu vas, la mort est dans tes pas”

_Wherever you go, death soon follows._

Natasha thought about it for a second, her mouth dry, her lips almost trembling. She was going into shock, she was losing blood fast. But it made sense. It did. Death was never far behind her, jumping through time didn't prevent that.

Her parents were dead, her brothers were dead. Alexander and Katia. Bezukov, Petrovich. They all died. Good, bad, and those in between, it didn't matter. Whoever got too close, died because of her.

It was fair.

It was true.

Death followed her like a shadow. Maybe, Natasha realized, maybe it would catch up to her someday soon, so that nobody else would have to pay the price.

Maria's tight grip brought her back to the moment; one was on her shoulder blade, the other on her stomach.

“You can't, the camera-”

“The camera malfunctioned. It's the 1300. Fury will understand.”

“No, I won't let you risk your career, your _life_ -”

“Just this once.”

Maria's voice was small and suddenly not that confident anymore.

“Let me be the one who saves you, let me make my own decision just this once.”

Natasha's hand lightly gazed Maria's hair and the back of her neck, before she realized her fingers were bloody.

She nodded.

As Natasha's wounds healed, the crowed grew agitated, some murmured, other gasped, people stepped back. A man yelled.

Maria fell on her knees. It was too much. The effort of using her power on another person centuries before she was even supposed to be born was making her feel dizzy and exhausted.

On the contrary, Natasha felt suddenly back in full force.

“Même le diable. Même le diable a un ange gardien,” someone said louder than the whispers of the other people in the crowd.

_Even the Devil. Even the Devil has a guardian angel._

Natasha looked up. Her eyes met the ones of a young man standing on his own in the crowd, away from the rest of the people. It was obvious he didn't belong. Yet, somehow, Natasha knew immediately who he was and what she had to do.

Her hand tangled in Maria's short hair and she bent down to whisper in her hear. “We have to make another stop before we go home.”

Maria couldn't do anything but nod her agreement.

 

**[May 2nd, 1401 – Florence, Italy]**

They were standing inside a small house.

Paintings and blank canvases were scattered around, many of them depicted the same figures. A woman, red-haired, staring at the observer. Whispering in the ear of the person in her arms.

“Sei tu.” _It's you._

The voice made them turn around, a man was standing in the bedroom doorway, staring at them like he was picking them apart, analysing how best to portray them.

“Eri in Francia, quindici anni fa. Nessuno mi ha creduto, ho provato a raccontare di te. Ma quando dici d'aver visto il diavolo, nessuno quasi mai ti crede.”

 

“What is he-?” Maria was bewildered. “Is he who I think he is?” Her Italian was good but she hadn't heard it in a while and it was being spoken in such an archaic accent, she was struggling to understand, much like the French they heard a moment before.

“He said he saw us in France, fifteen years ago,” Natasha confirmed. “Nobody believed him, nobody ever does when you say you've seen the devil.”

Maria looked at the painting he was currently working on.

“It's him. This is...this is you.”

“L'ho chiamato come te.” _I named it after you._

“Come me?” Natasha asked. _After me?_

He shook his head and lifted his hand. Time slowed down as he pointed towards Maria, then at the painting. Both of them frowned, not understanding.

“Même le diable a un ange gardien,” Natasha murmured, looking at the picture. It was what one of the people in France said right before they left.

The painter nodded. “L'angelo custode del diavolo. Quando un angelo salva qualcuno, non lo fa per essere ringraziato o perché lo deve fare per forza. Lo fa perché è la cosa giusta da fare, non chiede ricompense, rimane senza nome. Senza volto.” He nodded at the picture again. “Lei ha fatto così. Come un angelo custode. È rimasta senza nome, senza volto, cancellata dalla tua storia. Ma io mi ricordo di lei.”

“I think I got, like, a third of what he just said,” Maria whispered.

“He said that when angels save someone, they don't do it to be thanked or because they have to. But because it's the right thing to do, and they don't ask for a reward, they stay nameless. Faceless. You saved me like that. Like a guardian angel, you stayed nameless, faceless, you were erased from my story,” Natasha translated. “But he remembers you.”

Then, she stepped closer to the painting.

“Look at this, Maria. You're at the centre of it, you're the real subject, you're the one he has been painting. It makes so much sense. People in this ages often painted angels and saints and not that many devils were represented, the Church would have burned them or something.”

She turned to Maria, like she finally understood everything about it.

“He's Italian! Of course!”

Maria frowned. “What?”

“The title of the painting. L'angelo custode del diavolo. It was lost in translation. The guardian angel of the devil. Except, if you take out the word angel and instead only translate the word _custode_...it means keeper. La custode del diavolo. The Devil's Keeper. It was never me, Maria. This is your painting. Your story. Our story.”

“This doesn't make any sense. People in France were confused there was someone with you, the legends only speak of you.”

“Of course they do. Those terrible things, I did on my own. Whatever the legend is, they were speaking of the Devil. Somehow here in the Dark Ages another legend, the one of The Devil's Keeper, got mixed up with the older one. It makes sense that the voices, the rumours about those terrible deeds, were about me. But this painting? This is about _you_.”

Maria frowned, eyes darting towards the painting again.

“This painting isn't a story about a catastrophe. It's a story about a miracle. About how you saved me. About how you loved me.”

Maria kept staring at the painting, not quite able to believe the things she was hearing.

“Perché la ragnatela?” Natasha asked the painter. _Why the web?_

“Ti chiameranno Vedova Nera. Come il ragno.”

Natasha looked at Maria for a second, frowning. “He said I will be called Black Widow, like the spider. How do you know? Come lo sai?”

He smiled, stepping to Natasha, taking her hand in his own.

“So chi sei.” _I know who you are._

“He says he knows me,” Natasha's frown deepened.

“Ho visto la tua terza nascita. Sei coperta di sangue e spaventata come mai prima d'allora, perché sai cosa stai per lasciare indietro. Tutto si compirà con una solitaria lacrima della Custode del Diavolo. Devi ricordare, qualsiasi cosa accada, quel momento non è ciò che ti renderà ciò che sei. Ciò che determinerà chi sei, è il momento che verrà subito prima.”

 _I've seen your third birth. You've bathed in blood and you're scared like never before, because you know what you're leaving behind. It will all come to an end with a single tear from the Devil's Keeper. You_ must _remember, whatever happens, that moment is not what defines you. What will define you, is the moment that will come right before._

“What did he say?” Maria asked.

“He has the Sight. He painted the web because he knows I'll be called Black Widow. And I think...I think he just predicted my death.”

He let go of Natasha's hand, turning to Maria.

“Siamo due metà di una stessa maledizione,” he lightly tapped her chest, his index finger eventually stopping just above Maria's racing heart.

“He says you're two halves of the same curse.”

“What does it mean?” Maria wondered.

“Io posso vedere le cose, ma non cambiarle. Tu puoi cambiare le cose, ma non potendo predirle, senti di arrivare sempre un attimo troppo tardi per fare davvero la differenza.”

“He can see things, but not change them. You can change things, but since you can't predict them you feel like you're always a moment too late to actually make a difference.”

“Qualche volta il modo in cui si racconta una storia, diventa più potente della storia stessa. Tuo è il compito, vostra è la storia. Questo è il vostro fato, averne la certezza spero vi porti conforto. Il vostro futuro, è tutto già successo, perfino ora.”

“Sometimes the way a story is told is even more powerful than the story itself. Yours is the telling, ours is the story.This is our destiny, he hopes knowing this brings us solace. He says our future has all already happened, even now.

Maria shook her head, feeling her last vestiges of resolve crumble. The painting was the last location she was sure Natasha had to be. All the rest could be made up, it could all be done in one jump or two. They were heading towards the end of their journey and she wasn't ready, not yet.

“Dobbiamo andare,” Natasha said. _We have to go._

He nodded. “Buona fortuna.” _Good luck._

Maria didn't even have the time to wrap her mind around what just happened, before they were already jumping again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Thank you to el-zazou for helping me and checking the French translations for me!
> 
> Sorry for all the multi-language stuff! Let me know what you thought :)


	30. Forever Mine Nevermind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Recap](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/4f455iv66i7qz5j/DK-Timeline%20%28Ch.%2029%29.jpg?dl=0) by [mldcmx](http://mldcmx.tumblr.com/), the amazing person who did the chart and is keeping it updated!  
>  **NB:** yellow is what happened in the last chapter if you just need a quick reminder!  
>   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [beta](http://cocoa-n-donuts.tumblr.com/) is the awesomest person to ever be awesome <3

 

 

**[April 1st, 2024 – New York City]**

Maria was staring down at her bloodied hands.

She wasn't able to pay attention to her surroundings at all. She knew Natasha was dragging her somewhere, down a street, into a shop, but she wasn't paying attention to what was happening or to what Natasha had been saying to her that whole time.

Her ears were ringing, vision blurred, almost like she wasn't even completely conscious anymore.

Natasha stopped dragging her and set her leaning on a wall, the steadying hands soon left her shoulders and Maria could do nothing but lean back and try to catch her breath. The only thing she could bring herself to think about was that her hands were stained.

_This is Natasha’s blood._

Her mind wouldn't cooperate further than that. Couldn't process more than that.

_She could have died. This is her blood. She would have died if I let her go alone like Fury wanted, she would have died._

Like a mantra, her mind kept presenting her with the single scariest thought she could think about, but slowly, like a bell’s toll increasing in volume, another thought crept its way into her brain. Louder, louder and louder; until it was a scream.

_It's you. You are the Devil's Keeper._

She was snapped out of her thoughts in a second, like a branch that breaks under a boot.

Natasha was sitting two feet ahead of her, typing fast on a computer keyboard. She looked around.

“Where- _When_ are we?”

“New York City, 2024. Sorry, the dizziness is because we're in the future. It will go away in a moment.”

“What- what are you doing?” Maria forced the question out even though her breath was ragged and her eyes burned. She felt a sour flavour in her mouth and knew that she could be emptying her stomach in a second, if she moved.

“I had to erase the footage.”

Maria saw an image on the screen of the arrow being shot at Natasha, then the screen became pixelated and faded to black.

“How did you hack it?”

“I'm good at this. Not as good as Stark, but I was able to learn something, at least. You've been standing there for at least five minutes, so I hacked into your Stark Industries account and downloaded the proper software. Now I'm changing the content slightly.”

Maria closed her eyes, leaning her head back on the wall. “I don't have a Stark Industries account,” she pointed out.

“Not yet,” Natasha smirked. “You will in 2024.”

“How is it, every single time I come up with a way to trust you, you’ll find a way around it in half a second?” She panted.

“I’ve scrubbed the footage for the rest of our time in Paris. We can say the arrow hit the camera and it blacked out until we jumped here, in the middle of an internet cafe. Fury's orders were to go as far back in the past and as far forward in the future as I could. We'll say we accidentally jumped in the middle of the marketplace, so we had to run away and jump back. The rest is blacked out. Nobody will know what happened except us.”

“Fury will know. They'll know, they'll never trust you.”

“Fury will. He'll see the holes in my uniform and he'll know I wasn't protecting myself when I erased this. If S.H.I.E.L.D. knew about your powers, they'd have to fire or imprison you. He doesn't want that and neither do we, so just grab my hand when I'm done and please go along with this. It's our only option, Maria. If they'll never trust me because I had to protect you, so be it. I'm willing to go back to that cage right now if I have to.”

Her eyes opened again.

The dizziness and nausea were starting to fade. She looked around.

“This place is crowded. What if someone recognizes you?”

“They'll think we're cosplaying or something.”

“I don't think they are,” Maria whispered. “Nat. People are starting to stare at us, this isn't the fourteenth century, what if someone snaps a picture?”

“Let them. It's 2024, I'll be long gone by then.”

“ _Fuck_. Don't say that. How can you-”

“Take my hand, the camera will start recording again in three, two, one.”

Natasha pressed enter and got up, Maria's hand grasping hers, just like they just arrived inside the store from thin air.

Maria was right, people were starting to stare at them.

“We have to go.”

They hurried out of the store and down the road, turned a corner, and walked into an empty alley, Natasha already prepared to jump back.

“Wait, why aren't we dead?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at Maria's words.

“It's 2024, they knew who you were, they must have been able to call the police, the FBI, S.H.I.E.L.D., _someone_. Why aren't we in handcuffs or dead?”

Natasha's eyes went right past Maria's shoulder. Maria turned and looked at the alley behind her, a kid was standing there, his little hand grasping his dad's, eyes wide when he saw them.

“Dad! Dad it's them!” He was tugging at his father's sleeve to make him turn towards the small alley.

Natasha's hand grasped her elbow, and the last thing Maria saw in the future were two wide, surprised eyes staring right into hers.

  


**[May 1st, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

It had been a second, maybe less. And there they were, back to the same spot in the lab.

“Is that _blood_?”

“What happened?”

“Hill, are you injured?”

Maria looked down at the palm of her hands, stained in red.

She realized it must have been on her face, too, and on her neck where Natasha touched her. Her eyes snapped up and she turned around, walking to the door that led to a tiny room adjacent to the lab, with sinks and soaps of any kind.

“I followed the orders, sir. It didn't go smoothly,” she heard Natasha say just before the door shut behind her back.

She walked to the sink and squeezed some soap onto her hands, a more than generous amount, then she started rubbing them together.

She rubbed, and scrubbed, and rinsed them, only to start the process all over again. She washed her face, her neck. But she didn't feel less stained, somehow.

The stories, the legends, they weren’t just about Natasha.

They were about the both of them. It was about her. Somehow, she had ended up tangled in history. What unspeakable crimes were only Natasha's doing? What had been hers, too?

A gentle hand on her shoulder stilled her movements.

“I don't think your hands can get any cleaner.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again, because how could she explain that she still saw blood all over them?

Sharon handed her a towel that Maria took almost hesitantly.

“Fury needs your report, too.”

Maria nodded, not uttering a word.

“You made it fine, Maria. Natasha said people shot arrows at you, but that isn't the toughest spot you've been in, probably won't even be the last time someone tries that, with Clint around. You two made it out fine.”

She dried her hands, her face, her neck. Then finally mustered up the strength to try and speak.

“We captured the most powerful being in history, put her in a cage. And while she was learning everything she knows, I was trying to change the past.”

Her laugh was bitter and empty, her eyes were watching the blood slowly sliding into the drain, she ran water to clean up the few remaining drops, then turned to Sharon.

“How stupid is that? I lost all that time, trying to change things that have already happened.”

“It's not stupid. You were trying to show her that there could be another path. And, Maria, this is going to sound crazy, but I think you actually managed that.”

Maria shook her head and closed her eyes shut.

Her hands had been washed and dried and yet, when she looked down, she saw red and the blood of everyone who would soon be hurt by them-- by her.

“What if we picked the wrong side to be on?” Maria asked in a murmur. “What if this really is just a plan for her to be free? Red Room and S.H.I.E.L.D. mutually destroying each other and she walks away without a scratch.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. looks pretty fine to me.”

“It all might change tomorrow, if we end up really going into that facility.”

“Maria, you've been leading this mission all along. You've been willing to give your life to save hers from day one, you've believed her and _in her_ from the start. What changed your mind, now?”

Maria's hands finally stilled when she grabbed the edge of the sink. She thought back to what Natasha said to her; that their powers combined would know no boundaries.

Their fates were meant to collide, intertwine, and somehow shape and be shaped by each other. But it might have not been the way Maria had imagined it to.

“What if I felt like I was getting closer to making her stay on the right side, but all this time it was actually me drifting into hers?”

Sharon frowned. “What?”

Maria's hand left the edge of the sink to tangle in her own hair. She couldn't explain that feeling lodged deep in her chest, dread from the way the painter looked at her, the way that kid in the alley looked at her.

“I was trying to change her, but the only person I've changed is myself.”

“I don't-”

“I was sharp, you said it yourself. I was hard and focused. But since she's been here, I’d shifted my view of the world to accommodate hers. I shifted my views on the rules I followed my whole life just so her actions would be excusable. I wanted her to see what I saw, but all this time I was the one shifting my views.”

“You know that's not true. She's come a long way.”

“What if it's not enough? Fast enough? Good enough? What if she really did all those things?” _What if I did them with her?_

“Then we've been protecting a bad person, and we're going to stop her somehow.”

“It would be too late!”

“Maria. Stop doubting yourself like this. A minute ago, you jumped into the void because she was leading the way! If you really thought she did those terrible things, you wouldn't have been protecting her this long or this hard. So what is really going on here?”

“It's not her I'm doubting. We saw some pretty messed up stuff and I'm-” _doubting myself_ “-not sure how to process them.”

“Maria, I-”

She knew that tone. Sharon wanted to help, but she didn't know how. And Maria didn't know how to tell her there was no way to help.

“We better go, Fury needs that report. Come on.”

Without waiting for a response, Maria headed back out the lab door.

  


“I followed the orders, sir. It didn't go smoothly,” Natasha started.

“When did you land?”

“In the 1300s, near the end of the century but I can't-”

“I'm sorry, the _1300s_?”

“Yes, but I can't tell you the year precisely, it was all a bit blurry. Agent Hill had some residual sickness, and so did I. I think we might both need to rest for a while, because the future jump knocked us hard.”

“Wait a second, go back. 1300s?”

Natasha frowned, then shrugged. “Yes, sir.”

“That's...unbelievable.”

“Sir, my orders, given by you, were to go as far back and forward as I could, correct?”

“Yes, they were, but I expected the mid-1900s. Maybe three years in the future, if you got lucky.”

“We landed in 2024,” Natasha said without missing a beat, her face impassive.

“You went _seventeen_ years into the future?”

Natasha heard someone moving in the back and in the corner of her eye she saw Carter leaving the room to follow Maria.

“Yes, sir. It's all on camera. But as I was saying, the landing didn't go smoothly. It was the middle of a street market in France, a lot of people saw us, there were knights, soldiers. An archer took a couple shots at us, one arrow grazed me and hit the camera. I hope it kept recording, but I can't be sure.”

“The arrow shot at you just so happened to hit the camera,” Fury repeated, unconvinced.

“Yes, sir. Right here,” she pointed to the spot Maria had placed the camera, then her finger traced up smoothly to the hole in her uniform just in passing, almost casually, before she dropped her hand again.

“I see. Anything worth mentioning if it happens to be all erased from the feed?”

Natasha held his gaze, not saying anything for a moment.

“Not that I recall, sir. They recognized me, there was some fuss, we struggled and managed to get out once I was recharged enough. I think some people recognized us in the future, too, so the legends might be back.”

He looked at her carefully for a long moment, then nodded.

“Dismissed. Go get some rest. I'll hear what Hill has to say, then she'll be dismissed as well.”

“Sir, can I go on with the team tomorrow? I'll have the camera, you'll even have the live feed if you want to monitor me. I know they'll be safer with me on their side, that's all.”

He looked at her, then, after a moment of silence, he nodded. “I'll think about it. Now go have some food and some sleep.”

“Yes, sir.”

She walked to the lab door and, after walking out, she heard the noise of another door opening. She glanced back just in time to meet Maria's eyes before the door closed, locking her out of the laboratory.

  


Fury kept talking and talking, asking questions, making demands. Maria answered most of them on auto-pilot, not putting any effort to elaborate her short answers in the slightest.

Then, he started yelling.

About how her subversive, rebellious behaviour were starting to endanger her own life and their missions, how she has become impulsive and rash. Maria stood there, not saying a word, not trying to counter a single accusation.

“You're not in charge anymore, Agent May is taking the lead starting immediately. You're going into the field tomorrow only if she deems it necessary, after that you're suspended until further notice.

Maria knew he was only doing this to teach her a lesson, but she couldn't bring herself to care that she was being reprimanded.

When he finally gave her leave, the only thing Maria said when passing him by was: “She could have died. You were going to send her alone and if I hadn't grabbed her arm and went with her, she would have died.”

“Agent Hill, I will not-”

“You put me in charge of her. Like she's an asset. You were sending her there alone and unarmed, not even considering she could be harmed. And I did what you wanted me to, didn't I? I protected your _asset_.”

Without hearing the answer he was about to yell at her, Maria left the laboratory and headed straight for the gym.

  


She worked out until she felt numb enough, then she went back to her quarters, where she spent half an hour under the hot water of her shower.

No matter what she did, her brain wouldn't stop working and worrying over things she couldn't decide nor change.

She put back her uniform and went to look for May. It was getting late and the weight of the day was starting to settle on her, but she had to know if she was still going to be on the team the next day. She found May in one of the control rooms, going over the plan again and again.

“Are you going to still use that?”

Maria's voice didn't startle her. She barely turned her head.

“You don't change your battle plan the day before the war.”

“You would if you thought the person who made the plan might be a traitor,” Maria pointed out, not moving from the doorway.

“You're no traitor. Go get some sleep, we'll go over this one last time in the morning, before heading in.”

Maria was tempted to double check that she heard right, but she wasn't in the mood to risk her luck, so she just settled for a quick nod and disappeared from view as fast as her feet would carry her without having to jog.

When she got back to her room, Natasha was leaning on the wall beside her door.

Neither spoke, they stood there and looked into each other's eyes with too much to say. They had ran out of time a long time before, Maria already knew that. Yet, that didn't make it any less crushing to accept.

She unlocked the door and walked inside the room, leaving the door ajar. Natasha took the hint and followed her inside, closing the door behind her.

Maria sat down on the mattress heavily, her elbows on her knees, eyes fixed on the floor, but Natasha didn't move further into the room, but stood still, waiting.

“I know what you're thinking. But you have nothing to do with those legends, Maria. That's all on me, you know it is. It's why it was so easy to point at me in the painting and assign me that title, because I was the one people associated with the devil.”

Maria barely nodded, but didn't say anything.

Natasha pushed off the door and walked to her, standing in front of her. When Maria didn't look up, she knelt down between her feet and tipped her chin with a gentleness Maria only remembered in her dreams.

“You said he predicted your death. When?”

Natasha shrugged a little. “He didn't say. And it doesn't matter. We always knew this could only end one way. But you, Masha,” she smiled, softly, contently. “You will live on. The best self I’d ever was, I was when we were together. The best part of me will live inside your heart long after I'll be gone.”

Maria shook her head, forcing her eyes down again, unable to look into Natasha's open, honest ones.

“You're a healer. You don't age. You'll live a hundred thousand years and that's the only thing that matters to me, that's the only part of me I want to salvage.”

“I may live a thousand years, but you'll live a thousand lives, Natasha. You'll go to endless places, endless times, civilizations, cities. You'll meet endless people.”

“Yes. And they'll remember me like that, like the Devil. You'll remember me as me. You'll go on, of course, and I know you'll love ten thousand other people, but at least for a while, you'll remember me the way I want to be remembered.”

Maria raised her eyes slowly and looked at Nat softly.

“You still don't get it, do you?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at the question.

“I could live forever, love ten _billion_ other people. And none of them would ever come close,” she gently caressed Natasha's cheek, “to making me feel like you make me feel. I've always known we were meant for each other. I just didn't figure out the depths of it until now. We're written across history, we're painted on the surface of the world. You and I, we've always been together, since before time started, Natasha. We'll still be together when time stops.”

Natasha closed her eyes, leaning into Maria's hand. Technically, it could be true. If legends were to be believed, Natasha would go back in time to before civilization was a thing. And Maria was immortal. Virtually, she could be there until the end of the world.

So maybe they really had been in love since the dawn of time. Maybe they would be until time eventually faded away.

Natasha took Maria's face in her hands and looked up at her.

“I won't do it. I won't.”

“You said-”

“I know what I said, but it's not worth it. I won't betray what I've learned, Maria. I won't go against what I believe in. I'll let the world collapse, I'll ruin time and space and the fabric of reality itself because the truth is,” she attempted a chuckle, but came up empty. “The truth is the world isn't worth...” she searched for a word to express what she was losing and only one came immediately to mind, “...you.”

Maria knew it wasn't possible. The last few hours made her finally believe it was all already written. But in that moment, that was nothing else she was more willing to believe than the lie slipping past Natasha's lips, because the redhead believed them to be sacred truths.

Their foreheads touched, their noses bumped, their lips met.

It wasn't their first kiss by any means, but it meant something it never meant before.

Right now, they were together, in their present, in the same room. They could be together even if it was just for a night. They could be themselves, finally.

And they weren't in a big house with a patio and the beach out back, but they were together. Nothing mattered more than that. To them, it was perfect.

If they could have just stopped everything happening around them so fast, they would have spent an eternity in that tiny room, waiting together for the end of times.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought! Next chapter should be in a week if I can keep up the weekly updates (so far so good)!  
> Have a good week! <3


	31. To Fleeing Enemies, Golden Bridges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Recap](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/12mvpqghs7xxfn4/DK-Timeline%20%28Ch.%2030%29.jpg?dl=0) by [mldcmx](http://mldcmx.tumblr.com/), the amazing person who did the chart and is keeping it updated!  
>  **NB:** yellow is what happened in the last chapter if you just need a quick reminder!  
>   
> 

**[May 2nd, 2007 – Helicarrier, location classified]**

Maria woke up to the noise of the shower running. She looked beside her to see the time on her nightstand clock. It was barely seven in the morning, they didn't have to report to May for another hour.

She stretched and slowly started to get up, the noise from the bathroom tapering off. She ran a hand through her short hair and massaged her neck, trying not to think about the events of the previous day, but to focus only on the day ahead.

She turned around when the bathroom door opened, trying not to smile at the sight of Natasha patting at her hair with a towel.

“You are up pretty early,” she said casually.

“You know what they say. Don't go into battle if your hair isn't perfect.”

Maria snorted, “Yeah, how would you do that hair flip when you knock out people with your thighs otherwise?”

“Exactly.”

She leaned on the doorframe and looked at Maria, a playful smile on her lips, a serene look in her eyes. Natasha looked content.

It was everything Maria had ever wanted for the redhead, it was what had always seemed to be missing, and she remembered thinking on the day she thought Natasha died, that she would have given anything to see that look in her eyes.

Then, something changed. Natasha looked down.

“What is it?” Maria asked, suddenly nervous.

“I should have brought you to Versailles,”

“We went,” Maria pointed out, puzzled.

“I should have brought you dancing at Marie Antoinette's court,” Natasha clarified.

Maria shrugged. “I saw Versailles at your side. I think it's more than enough.”

“There's so many other things-”

“You took me to meet my mother. There's no greater gift you could have given me with your power, Natasha.”

She smiled a little and looked up at her, “What about me without my power?” She meant it as a joke, maybe a teasing remark, but Maria didn't laugh.

Maria walked to her slowly but surely, stopped right in front of her and bowed her head to kiss Natasha's cheek.

“I think you know,” her hand settled against Natasha's chest, above her heart.

Without another word, Maria stepped around Natasha and went into the bathroom, running a shower of her own.

  


When she got out of the shower, Natasha was already gone. She suited up and left her room, heading for the meeting with May.

When she walked inside the conference room, the atmosphere was tense, despite Bobbi and May being the only two agents there.

“What is it?” Maria asked, almost startling Bobbi, who was hyper focused on the task at hand.

“I've been running surveillance again. People in the base seem to have moved.”

“What do you mean, moved?”

“Well, until yesterday, they were staying all over the place, no apparent pattern whatsoever. This morning, they started shifting. Packed up and moved to a room on the fifth floor.”

“Why? What's special about that room?”

“Apparently, nothing. No weapons. No computers, no labs, no food. It's just an auditorium. They rounded up and barricaded themselves in like they knew we planned on going in today.”

Maria frowned. “No. That's not possible.”

May and Bobbi exchanged a look.

“Someone tipped them off,” May stated.

Maria gritted her teeth and clenched her fist, but said nothing.

“What is the plan, then?”

“We need someone to draw fire. Agent Romanoff could go in through the main entrance, Strike Team one could make their way inside the building from the garages. Strike Team two goes in from the roof.”

It was a good plan. Draw fire, while the other two teams swept the building. It made sense, because Natasha would be in full force and there was no way she wouldn't be able to jump from the course of an arrow, a bullet, or whatever else. Yet, Maria's mind wasn't at ease even knowing that Natasha will be ready, because she would still be alone with no backup.

“I'll go with Romanoff. If we send her in alone, it'll be too suspicious.”

May gave her the best ‘I-don't-believe-you-but-I-won't-argue-with-you’look she could muster.

“Carter, Coulson, and I will be on Strike Team one. Morse, Barton: Strike Team two. Strike Team three: you and Romanoff. Gear up, we're leaving in twenty.”

Maria nodded, turning back and trying to push down the feeling of dread that was rising up in her gut.

  


They were above the main entrance, in a cloaked Quinjet, ready to be let down.

The other two teams were getting into position in subtler ways, leaving Natasha and Maria to wait for their cue to enter.

“Why do you think they're hiding?” Natasha asked.

“Who says they're hiding?” Maria countered.

“Oh, come on. They're in the auditorium. Those are the Red Room's last scientists, their families. The soldiers are out there fighting. We know, because we took out most of them.”

Maria thought about it for a moment, then shrugged.

“Something’s set them off,” Natasha reasoned, looking down at the base below them. “They're waiting for something they can't counter.”

“Well, for fleeing enemies...”

“...let’s build some golden bridges,” Natasha agreed.

“If they wanna surrender, we'll let them surrender. It will go much more smoothly and easily, so you won't see me complain.”

Natasha shrugged, then sighed, “Let's hope those bridges can hold our weight, too.”

Maria frowned, “What?”

“Well, I didn't tip them off. I _didn't_. I'm loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D., which means, either there's a real double-agent, or, they're not fleeing from us.”

Maria thought about what her partner was implying for a moment.

“If they come and fight us, then we'll know we're not whom they think they don't stand a chance against. And if that happens, it means they've been warned that someone else is coming. Someone they not only can't fight, but can't escape from. Which means,” Natasha pressed on, “we could really use those golden bridges built for our fleeing enemies.”

“Cool theory,” Phil's voice came in through the comms.

“Shit, I forgot you guys are all listening in on each other,” Natasha murmured.

Maria raised an eyebrow at that. Natasha Romanoff never forgot anything.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Okay, I didn't think these were on yet. Is the camera working?” She asked, tapping on the spot the screen was supposed to be.

“It is,” Simmons' voice confirmed.

“All teams in position?” May asked.

“Strike Team two set,” Morse confirmed.

“Strike Team three set,” Maria said.

“All clear from the Base,” Fitz's voice came through the comms.

“Team three, move,” May ordered.

Maria nodded to Natasha. They lowered themselves with the ropes and unlatched them once they were a couple of feet of the ground, jumping off and heading straight for the facility.

“So, what's the Red Room doing on a little island in the middle of the Laptev Sea?” Carter wondered out loud.

“Regrouping, probably.” May answered.

Natasha and Maria made their way to the gate, passing the security pads easily, then reaching the metal front gate. Maria took a small explosive out of her belt and positioned it on the door. She signalled with her head for Natasha to step back, but Natasha just activated the bomb with her left hand, her right one landing on Maria shoulder. She jumped a hundred feet back, waited until the door blew up, then took them back in front of the entrance.

“Or rounding up their sources,” Barton said.

“What do you mean?” Carter asked.

“We're entering the facility now,” Maria told them through the comms.

“There's a bunch of scientists who know all the Red Room’s secrets in this building,” Natasha explained. “They have digital records of that knowledge, probably. And the Red Room can keep those safe. But humans are a liability. They could sell those secrets or just...release them for the benefit of science. A hard drive can't do that.”

“Would they do that? Round them up just to wipe them out?” Carter asked in a whisper.

“They did it with us Black Widows,” Natasha pointed out. “It’s just me, now.”

“Main corridor empty,” Maria reported. “First lab empty as well. Proceeding east.”

“Team two, get in, start sweeping the upper floors,” May ordered. “Team one, we're going in now, start clearing the south wing, then get to the first floor. Team three, you sweep the east wing, then get to the third floor.”

“Copy that.”

“Moving in.”

“Eighth floor seem empty as well.”

“East wing is clear,” Maria said.

“South, too. We're heading up,” May told them, heading toward the stairs.

“We have movement on the second floor,” Fitz said through the comms.

“Counter order,” May said immediately. “Team three, stay where you are. We might need back-up, don't go to the third just yet.”

“Request to move up to the first to back you up,” Maria responded.

“Negative. Stay put.”

May, Coulson and Carter moved up the stairs quickly, then hid around the corners from the main corridor.

“They don't seem to be aware we have infra-red cameras on the building, because they're splitting up and searching the whole floor,” Fitz said.

“Team two, what's your location?”

“Sweeping the seventh floor now.”

Two armed men rounded the corner, Coulson took two precise shots, knocking them out. They moved along the corridor, waiting to see if someone else arrived.

“Romanoff, can you bring them in?”

May had barely finished her request when a noise made them turn back towards the two knocked out soldiers behind them.

One disappeared, then the other. Then, Natasha was standing in the empty corridor. May was staring right at her, she saw her gun come up, already loaded. She was about to raise her own weapon when two shots echoed in the hallway.

May turned around to see two men hit in the kneecaps laying on the floor.

Natasha brought them inside the Helicarrier prison too, one by one.

“You thought I would shoot you?” Natasha asked, indignantly, once she was back on Maria's side on the ground floor.

“You pointed your gun at me.”

“If you thought I was aiming at you, you have very poor eyesight,” Natasha said in a dead serious tone.

“There are three more on the second. Two east, one south, heading toward you,” Fitz warned them.

“Carter, you stay here and wait for that one, we'll go east, take out the other two.”

Carter nodded.

They split up, as May gave Natasha and Maria the green light to sweep the third floor, as Morse and Barton checked the sixth. No soldiers, no explosives, no countermeasures. Nothing. It was all clear and it was almost unsettling.

“We took down those two. Whenever you're ready, Romanoff.”

“Third is clear,” Maria said.

“Two other prisoners in lock up,” Fitz confirmed Natasha brought them in.

“Sixth is clear, too,” Morse said.

“We're moving to the second floor,” May said. “Carter?”

There were a few seconds when nobody said anything. The line went deadly silent.

“Carter?”

Nothing. The lack of noise was deafening.

“Damn it, Sharon, come in!”

Nothing, not one single word, not even a sound.

“Guys, we've been cut off,” Fitz said. “Infra-red cameras aren't working anymore and you're breaking up on the comms. This is starting to feel like a trap.”

“We're going to find Sharon,” Maria said.

“We're closer,” May pointed out.

“Romanoff can jump there.”

There was a pause. Then, “Fine. Go. Team two, meet us at the fourth floor, we'll sweep that to be sure, then head up to the fifth.”

“Something is messing up the radio signal,” Fitz warned. “We're trying to locate the source, but it doesn't seem to be on the island.”

Natasha transported them to the hallway where Carter was supposed to be in. They appeared right behind the Red Room soldier she had been waiting for. Natasha was quick to disarm him, she brought down the heel of her gun on his temple hard enough to knock him out, but he barely budged.

He aimed his elbow for Natasha's nose and when she ducked to avoid the blow Maria took a clean shot at him. Two in the chest. He fell down on the ground, the vest protecting him but the force of the bullets knocking him out.

Then, Maria turned around.

She froze like a statue at the sight before her. Her best friend was lying face down on the ground, three bullets in her back.

Sharon Carter was dead.

Didn't even see it coming.

Maria walked to her quickly, kneeling down beside her, not able to utter the smallest of sounds.

“I'll keep watch,” Natasha said.

Maria looked up, wondering how could her voice be so even. Then she noticed Natasha's eyes clouded and filled with sorrow. She put her index to her mouth, signalling for Maria not to say a word. She pointed to her uniform and suddenly Maria knew why Natasha was still standing a few feet away, facing the other direction.

“How's Carter?” May asked.

Maria felt her pulse. There wasn't any. She bowed her head, trying to clear her thoughts.

“Hill, how's Carter?” May asked again.

“Romanoff, turn around so I can assess her condition,” Simmons said.

“I'm keeping watch, we don't have eyes on the building anymore,” Natasha said.

“Hill,” May said in a whisper.

Maria knew how hypocritical it was of her, after having accused Natasha of wanting to abuse their powers for their personal gain, to go against her self-imposed laws just because this time it was about her best friend, but Maria couldn't let it happen.

She couldn't live with the knowledge that she could have saved Sharon.

Laying both hands on her back, she healed her wounds, watching the bullets go in reverse and fall out the holes in her back. Maria healed her, then turned her around and started CPR.

Natasha was watching, with only her head turned in their direction. The second Maria was done using her powers, she bolted in their direction and knelt down to help Maria with the resuscitation, it wasn't dangerous anymore for them to be recorded on camera.

“Carter is passed out. We're doing CPR on her.”

“Team two, come in,” May requested.

“We’ve cleared the fourth floor,” Barton said. “Waiting to see what's on the fifth, where all the people are rounded up.”

“We'll meet you on the stairs, we'll go up together.”

“Copy that.”

“She's still not responding,” Natasha said.

“Come on, Sharon, don't do this. You promised we weren't gonna lose anyone today, so just- just wake up,” Maria pleaded.

Natasha knew what they needed. She put a hand on Maria, one on Sharon, then brought them into the med bay in the Helicarrier. Maria barely lost her pace, but kept doing the cardiac massage while Natasha searched for a defibrillator.

After a couple of seconds two of their doctors approached with the right cart. They made Maria move, then started advanced CPR, connecting her to a heart monitor.

Natasha dragged Maria back. “There's nothing we can do here.”

“I know.”

The last sound Maria heard before Natasha led them back into the facility below them, was the heart monitor beeping regularly. Sharon would be fine.

  


“I think Natasha was right,” May said into the comms. “They're rounded up. There's women, children, here. We already took out the few soldiers they had, there's no fire power. This isn't supposed to be a military base.”

“What's the plan, then?” Fitz asked.

“Evac. All of them, they're about... I'd say fifty people strong. We'll bring them down to the garages and back to the Quinjet that Natasha and Maria came down on, we can split them into four groups, one with each of us. Have some sort of containment ready.”

“I'll have to bring Fury in, we'll start on that right away.”

“Back from the base,” Hill said once they landed on the second floor, where Natasha started the jump from.

“Shit, a helicopter just landed on the roof. I think that's where the signal blocking our comms has been coming from. Looks like advanced tech. Could be Red Room,” Fitz informed them.

“They landed? Couldn't you have given us some warning?”

“They were cloaked.”

“Alright, we're already going down with these people, they seem scared and almost relieved we're bringing them away,” May said.

“We'll go to the roof,” Romanoff volunteered. “We'll check out the helicopter.”

“What about what you said before?” Maria questioned. “Us using those bridges and run?”

“We have to stall, at least until the civilians with May are safe in the Helicarrier,” Natasha pointed out. “Then we can jump out of here.”

“How? Twenty seconds later and you'll be back to your starting point,” Coulson pointed out.

“We'll find a way,” Maria said. “Natasha's right, we need to stall. Hurry up, if you can.”

“Maria, maybe you should-” Natasha began.

“Finish that sentence and see how fast I can murder a person.”

“Right, so we're both going,” Natasha said, then moved alongside Maria until they were standing right outside the rooftop's door. “Ready?”

“No,” Maria told her honestly. “But when have I ever been ready for anything when you are involved?”

Natasha smirked, then opened the door and stepped outside.

The helicopter's engine was being shut off just as they walked out in the open.

Three men were standing on the rooftop. Flanking the man in the center were two soldiers Natasha thought she recognized as two of Bezukov's former lackeys. But the one in the middle, she was not ready to see.

He had a backpack on, connected to the flamethrower in his hands. Yet, somehow, the flamethrower wasn't what scared Natasha.

The man in the center standing in front of them had long hair and a mask on his face, the metal of his left arm shining, almost glowing, in the sunlight.

She recognized him immediately even though she only ever saw him once before.

She knew who he was. A ghost. A legend.

Maybe the Red Room deemed it poetic sending a legend to kill another legend, almost cathartic in a way.

“This explains why the civilians were _that_ sure they would die. The Red Room told them they were sending him here to clean up and they just...resigned themselves to their fate.”

“Sending _who_ exactly?” Maria asked.

Natasha didn't turn to look at her, her eyes fixated on the man before them.

“The Winter Soldier.”

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thank you to my [beta](http://cocoa-n-donuts.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> The comment box is right there, what are you gonna do, ignore it? That's rude!
> 
> Thank you for reading, see ya in a week or so, happy holidays <3


	32. Dead Man Switch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Recap](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/gol77ac3mo4d4i2/DK-Timeline%20%28Ch.%2031%29.jpg?dl=0) by [mldcmx](http://mldcmx.tumblr.com/), the amazing person who did the chart and is keeping it updated!  
>  **NB:** yellow is what happened in the last chapter if you just need a quick reminder!  
>   
> 

**[May 2nd, 2007 – Red Room facility, Laptev Sea, Russia]**

_Oh, I wish we went to Versailles. I wish we went to Munich and everywhere else we've always wanted to go. It's too late now_ , Natasha thought, looking at the man in front of her fixing his flamethrower into place.

“You can jump for twenty-four seconds, but you will eventually have to come back here, and this can go on way longer than that,” one of the other men said.

Natasha didn't need to be told that, obviously, but if they lost time man-splaining it could only mean she had more time to think about a plan.

“Wanna see a magic trick?” Natasha asked with a smirk, as the man loaded his weapon and pointed it towards them.

Fire started erupting from the flamethrower just as Natasha quickly turned to her side to grab Maria's hand with her own, making them both disappear from sight.

The last thing she felt before jumping was an unbearable heat, the air becoming so hot she felt like she could barely breathe, like for a second she was both in the flames and far, far away.

  


**[May 2nd, 2017 – New York City]**

The dizziness hit them less than the previous time they jumped into the future, when it almost knocked them out. This time, it just left them stumbling a little.

They tried to catch their breaths as quickly as possible, both thankful they didn't end up appearing in the middle of a crowded street or inside a shop. Instead, they were leaning against a wall and, albeit the alley wasn't deserted, it wasn't that crowded either. Nobody was looking in their direction and for once, just once, they got lucky.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Maria asked, eyes closed, heads thrown back against the wall behind her. “Again!” She added, still trying to regain her focus.

“It was either this or burned alive. This is slightly better,” Natasha said, adjusting far quicker than Maria.

“Yes but couldn't you have jumped literally anywhere else in the present?”

“Nope,” Natasha said, smiling at Maria teasingly.

Maria sighed. “Care to explain?”

“Well we're ten years in the future. Stark will have made you that fireproof shield you’d asked him by now.”

Maria frowned, shaking her head. “I never asked-” then, she realized why Natasha was smirking. “Oh. I will once we get back. Right.”

“Yep. So now we just call him and have him deliver it to us.”

“Why not call S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Spoiler,” Natasha said, starting to walk down the street. “Come on, we better hurry up.”

Maria rolled her eyes, but followed Natasha nonetheless.

Once they were in front of a random store, Natasha walked inside without even bothering to check what kind of store it was. As it turned out, it was a bookstore.

She walked right up the counter and smiled at an astonished clerk.

“Hello,” she said politely. “My friend and I were going to a convention and we got lost while trying to-”

“You're Black Widow.”

“Yep, I'm flattered you recognized me,” she smiled in a flirty way and leaned on the counter. “I didn't think my costume was that accurate,” she even went as far as to let a giggle out.

The guy seemed pretty flustered, Maria noticed, folding her arms in front of her chest.

“Well, it's not perfect, but it's close. The shade of your wig is a little off, too.”

Maria actually rolled her eyes at that. Leave it to a guy to rate Natasha's outfit as an imperfect Black Widow costume.

Natasha giggled again. “Any chance we could borrow your phone real quick?”

The guy shrugged and handed her his mobile. Natasha smiled at him while opening up the browser and searching for any Stark Industries contact she could find. She came up with the address of the man's tower, which was a little overkill, but it was also the quickest way to get into contact with him by a long shot.

She showed the address to Maria, who murmured she knew the way to that building. She closed the browser and handed back the phone to the clerk, smiling too sweetly again.

“Thank you so much. See you around!”

They left the store before he could even reply.

  


“Okay, what's the plan for when we get there?”

“We walk right into the front door and ask to see Stark.”

“Sure, that's totally gonna fly with the security there, yeah,” Maria rolled her eyes.

“Would you just trust me?” Natasha smirked again.

“Maybe I would if you weren't taking this as a fucking joke.”

“Life's too short to be taken seriously.”

“Maybe it's so short because you never _do_ take it seriously.”

“This reminds me of our time in Rome, when you asked me a billion times if I was sure the path was right and despite me telling you I was positive, you kept doubting me.”

“Well, I'm pretty sure the road is right this time,” she nodded ahead, pointing to the Tower a block from them, something so extravagant and quirky it could have only been built by Stark. It had a gigantic letter A on the front, for some reason. “Anthony has a major diva complex. That is not necessary, I mean, we get it, your name starts with an A.”

Natasha laughed lightly. “Well, have a little faith, maybe it stands for something else.” _Like, asshole, for example._

They walked, as Natasha suggested, straight into the main entrance and headed for the security control.

“Here we go, about to get arrested,” Maria whispered.

“Just trust me.”

“I hope you can still do that trick with your thumb to get out of handcuffs.”

Natasha sighed. “Just. Trust. Me.”

“God, I hope 2017 me doesn't end up being arrested by CIA because of this.”

“Oh, for the love of-”

“Mrs Hill, we weren't expecting you tod-” the man stopped mid-sentence when he noticed whom Maria was walking with and the uniforms they were wearing. “Oh, shit. I m-mean,” he tried to correct quickly. He'd been trained for this. “I'll...” he gestured behind him, then bolted altogether.

Two of the other security guards escorted them immediately to a nearby room, cameras adorning every corner. Seemed to be soundproof, too, they both noticed.

“Yep. Federal prison, here we come,” Maria murmured.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “This lack of trust is honestly concerning. Have I ever gotten you imprisoned?”

“Well, Fury kinda arrested me when he found out I had met you before.”

“But did he _imprison_ you?” Natasha raised an eyebrow, well aware of the answer. Maria rolled her eyes. “That's a no. So that makes zero times.”

“For now,” Maria added.

“Look, I've probably been dead for a while in 2017. They can't arrest ghosts.”

Maria's expression turned serious in a millisecond. “Stop joking about it. Just, goddammit Natasha, just _don't_.”

“Okay, _Mrs_ Hill.”

“ _What_?”

“The security guard? He called you Mrs Hill. I guess you're married, now. Probably to his boss, that's why he recognized you.”

Maria frowned. “Why would I marry Tony Stark?”

“You tell me, you're the one who did it. Maybe you fell in love working on the fireproof shield, who knows?”

“Shut up, Natasha. I can't be married to-”

They were distracted by the door opening and Stark entering, followed by the man who recognized Maria when they arrived.

“So you weren't kidding. You get to keep your job another day,” Tony told the man beside him.

They all stayed silent for a long moment, then Maria cleared her voice.

“Nice to see you again, Tony. So, this is going to sound insane, but is it possible that I asked you to design a fireproof shield or something similar for me? About, let's say, a decade ago?”

“What year are you from?” Stark asked, ignoring everything Maria had just said.

“I have no idea-”

“Have you talked to anyone from this year?” Tony pressed.

Maria and Natasha exchanged a puzzled look.

“We asked a clerk to borrow his phone, he thought we were cosplaying,” Maria said. “Nobody else, the walk here was short and your guard was the only person who spoke to us when we walked inside.”

“Good,” he sighed in relief. “You can't know anything that will happen. Not until- well, obviously I can't say until what.”

“Until I die,” Natasha spoke up for the first time, uttering the words with a candour that would have almost been concerning, if the situation hadn't been so absurd.

Stark inhaled sharply, his eyes never leaving Natasha's.

“I'm sorry,” was the only thing he could say.

“You're not the first person to predict my death to me,” Natasha told him with a smile and a shrug. “I've made my peace with it. We're not here to save me.”

“Actually, yes, we are. We're here to save both of us,” Maria said, decisively.

“Looks like Maria hasn't. Made her peace with it, that is,” Tony noticed. “I have what you're asking for.”

“Whatever the price is-”

“No. No price. The fireproof shield is yours. I only have one request.”

Natasha and Maria looked at each other, then back at him. They both knew they had no choice but to do whatever he asked of them.

“You're fighting the Winter Soldier, aren't you?” The look Maria and Natasha gave each other was all the confirmation he needed. “Hurt that son of a bitch as bad as you can.”

“I don't think all three of us are going to get off that roof,” Natasha pointed out. “So, if we're lucky, hurting him will be our starting point.”

Tony nodded seriously, not even considering Natasha's joke as anything less than the truth.

“Come with me. I'll show you how it works.”

He led them further into the building, on an elevator, then to an underground floor. It looked like a lab, but it was messier and more chaotic than any lab Maria had ever seen. Pieces of technology were scattered everywhere, and nothing seemed to be in its proper place.

They walked through it and straight into another room, less messy, with all completed inventions displayed inside the room like a museum, like they were prototypes waiting to be of usage.

“So, I think this will suffice. You asked for something that could hold a close range flamethrower without as much as bulging, I also made it bulletproof, but it had to be light too, since you'll have to lift it up. So, once the flamethrower empties, it will hold for some more blows, but not, let's say, an entire submachine gun loader. It'll start to crack after maybe half of it.”

“So he has a submachine gun, too. Awesome,” Maria said sighing. “So when we go back, the flames will still be up. The fuel will run out eventually, but the shield will hold, you're sure of that, right?”

Tony nodded. “You'll be a little warm, but you'll be fine.”

“It doesn't seem very strong,” Natasha pointed out.

The item he was presenting them with was almost seven feet tall, but it was transparent and not very thick, Natasha noticed. It was two inches thick, which didn't seem quite enough to hold the fire back. It was curved on the edges so they would be able to fit together behind it and their sides would still be protected from the flames because of the curve the shield made, it had an handle at about six feet and one at about four and a half. It was designed so the two of them would be able to hold it up together.

“It weighs more than it seems, the material is customized to reject flames, but as I said I couldn't make it too heavy.”

“He'll try to go around us,” Natasha realized. “Of course, he's not an idiot, he'll have probably already moved his angle, expecting us to have some sort of barrier.”

“Yep. That's why this isn't just a barrier.”

The satisfied smile on Tony's lips made Natasha narrow her eyes at him.

“What do you mean it's not a barrier, of course it is. I mean, it's a little concave, but,” she pointed out.

Tony kept smirking. “Step behind it.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at that.

“Go on, both of you.”

They hesitated, but did as they were told. Once they were behind the shield, Tony instructed them both to grab the handles.

Once they did, the pressure activated the shield: both sides slid further around until the edges touched and shut closed, as some sort of lid seemed to seal the shield above their heads.

It became clear in that moment that it wasn't just any shield or a barrier. Stark built them a fireproof capsule to completely isolate them for the flames and guns.

A slow smile spread on Natasha's lips as she looked at the transparent material around them. They would be able to see where the three man were positioned before the shield gave out, so they could develop a plan in the few seconds they'd have, regardless of whether the Winter Soldier changed angles, because they would be covered from all sides.

It was perfect.

“I knew asking you was a good idea,” Natasha murmured.

“Don't move, give me just one second,” Tony demanded, then stepped back and grabbed what looked like a tablet, but also seemed much more advanced than anything they had ever seen before. He started pressing buttons and in a second a metal cube appeared around them. It looked like steel, so it was probably stronger than whatever the thing they were standing inside was. But it wasn't fireproof, so they didn't understand what was happening.

“Okay,” Tony yelled so they could hear him clearly even with the wall between them. “Now, lift the shield as hard as you can.”

They looked at each other, both very confused.

“Just do it!”

Maria shrugged, Natasha rolled her eyes a little at Tony's child-like enthusiasm.

“Okay, on my three,” Maria said. “One, two, three.”

It wasn't light by any means, but it wasn't hard to lift either. As soon as the lower end wasn't touching the ground anymore, the shield dismantled, pieces and fragments flying like arrows towards the walls around them, slamming into the metal wall.

“Oh my God.”

“What the fuck!”

“It's a shield-bomb! It's a fire-bullet-proof shield-bomb!” Natasha walked to the wall in a daze, touching the wall to feel the dent in it. The material scratched steel. That thing could actually end up saving their life.

“Probably won't kill them,” Tony said once the walls had lowered back into the ground again. “But it will provide the distraction you need to hit. It also has a dead man switch, so if both of you let go of the handles it will go off automatically before you have the chance to lift it. But it won't be as neat, it'll blow up and wipe everything in a thirty feet range. It's a failsafe, so be sure to scatter it before it scatters you.”

“It truly is perfect,” Maria conceded. “There's only one small, tiny problem. Our shield's in pieces now.”

“Oh, this was just the prototype,” Tony dismissed. “The proper one is safely stored.”

“That prototype probably costed millions of dollars. You could have just shown us a video or explained it to us, you know?” Maria pointed out.

“Yeah, I could have,” he mocked. “But where's the fun in that?”

Maria snorted. “Well, it's your money. So by all means,” she shrugged.

He sighed exaggeratedly. “You always suck the fun out of wasting money.”

“How many seconds can this last under the flames?” Natasha asked.

“It lasts long enough. He already shot at you, didn't he? So some of the fuel is already burned up, flamethrowers only have a few seconds of autonomy, he'll be waiting for when you go back to start again, he won't be wasting any power. But he'll be probably circling around.”

“Okay,” Maria reasoned. So we step behind it, hold it, the walls go up. Natasha jumps, we wait for the flame to subside.”

“Then we make them waste as many ammo on the shield as we can before it starts cracking. At which point, we blow it up like arrows shooting at three-hundred-and-sixty degrees.”

“Yep. We use the distraction to shoot them,” Maria finished. “Sounds easy.”

Tony brought them to the final model, without adding anything. When they were in front of it, he turned to them again.

“Remember about the failsafe. Don't let go of the handles or,” he made a gesture with his hands to mimic an explosion. “Kaboom.”

“Dead man switch. We got it.”

“Alright then. In you go. Agent Hill,” he shook Maria's hand, then turned to Natasha. “Agent Romanoff.”

“Thank you, Stark. For doing this,” Natasha glanced at the shield.

“It's been an honour,” he said, finally letting go of her hand.

Without thinking much about what he said, they stepped together behind the shield, Maria taking hold of the upper handle, Natasha grabbing the lower one. It closed around them quickly. They looked at Tony one last time, then Natasha turned to Maria.

She already started the jump back, when she felt the urge to stop.

They could have gone somewhere, for a while. To the Caribbean, to Munich, to Versailles. They could have stayed together a little longer, away from the flames and bullets and wars and deaths, away from the end fast approaching.

Time seemed to slow down to a stop, as she felt both the noises of Stark's lab and the heat of the flames starting again around them.

Maria's eyes were staring right back at her.

_For her_ , Natasha suddenly remembered; she was fighting for her. That was why they couldn't just escape. Run away. She was fighting for something that went beyond her. She was fighting for a better world, one where she was in love with Maria and was never guilty of the terrible crimes attributed to her.

She was fighting to be good enough.

To be good, period.

  


**[May 2nd, 2007 – Red Room facility, Laptev Sea, Russia]**

The jump ended. And around them, hell broke loose. Flames and heat and the sour smell of gasoline engulfed the air around them.

It seemed like the flames could almost touch them but not quite, almost like they were headed to hell, but were still not there. It was too hot, there was no oxygen, the could barely breathe. Yet, they hung on.

It seemed like an eternity to them, but in a matter of seconds, it was over.

The flames stopped.

And the bullets started.

“How long do you think it can hold?” Maria asked, her breath ragged and her head dizzy.

Natasha didn't say. She was watching the two men shoot at them with submachine guns, but the Winter Soldier wasn't shooting. No. He was walking away. Why would he walk away?

“He's going back to their helicopter,” Natasha said.

The shield was starting to have a few small cracks. Luckily, the blows were too rapid to be precise, not often hitting the very same spot on the material.

“Oh, for fuck's sake, you _have_ to be kidding me.”

“He brought a fucking refill? For his flamethrower?!” Natasha felt like she was on a prank show. Then again, he was a legend for a reason.

“We can't hold both the flame and the bullets. Hell, we can't even hold just the bullets for much longer,” Maria pointed out.

Then, Natasha realized it.

Why put a dead man switch on a shield you couldn't be killed in?

“Maria, you have to trust me, okay?”

She frowned, not liking where the conversation was headed.

“Let go of your handle on my three.”

“Have you lost your mind?!”

Natasha looked down. A crack was spreading on the shield and the Winter Soldier was walking back toward them with his recharged flamethrower.

He was too far away, but the two soldiers shooting at them were on a thirty feet range.

“Maria, just this _one time_ , just do as I say without arguing!”

She just frowned and grimaced, not giving Natasha an answer.

“One. Two.” God help her if Maria didn't let go of that damn handle, she would have strangled her herself. “Three!”

Her hands let go of the shield and grabbed Maria's arm, then immediately jumped.

  


**[May 2nd, 2017 – New York City]**

The bomb going off ringed in their ears, the force of the blow knocked them on the ground, they landed hard and ungracefully. But without a scratch.

Natasha rolled over, opening her eyes slowly. “That was close.”

“You are going to be the death of me,” Maria groaned, massaging her head.

“Welcome back,” they heard Stark's voice from somewhere above them. “Your second shield-bomb is waiting for you. This time maybe use the arrows, their range is larger.”

“You could have given us a warning,” Natasha murmured, sitting up.

“I did,” Tony shrugged. “I built it in. Told you about it. I can't tell you what you did before you do it, that would fuck up the space-time continuum.”

“Just hush,” Maria ordered. “A bomb just went off in my ear and I'm not ready to hear your nonsense.”

Tony smiled at them once they were back up on their feet.

“Ready for the second round?”

“Please, tell me there's not going to be a round number three,” Maria said, taking position behind an identical shield to the one they just blew up.

“No, I'm afraid this is a goodbye for us,” Tony said. “Good luck.”

“Who needs luck when they have a shield-bomb,” Natasha smirked at him.

He chuckled, shaking his head.

A moment later, they were gone.

He sighed and put down the tablet he was holding, making his way back up to his office, hoping everything would go as it was supposed to, knowing he couldn't do anything to change the past, because everything Romanoff and Hill were about to go through had already happened a long time before.

  


**[May 2nd, 2007 – Red Room facility, Laptev Sea, Russia]**

Two lifeless bodies were lying on the ground.

But the Winter Soldier was still standing.

He looked at them, then down at the ground, positioning himself outside the range he saw the shield explode a moment before.

Natasha and Maria were inside the shield again, knowing it would hold off the flames. He was out of range for the explosion, but they could still use the first trick Tony showed them and hit him with the fragments of the shield. They just had to wait for him to run out of fuel again.

He planted himself firmly on the ground, but so did Natasha and Maria.

They looked at each other, to make sure the other was ready.

Natasha nodded, maybe to reassure Maria, maybe to reassure herself. She didn't have the time to figure it out because, a moment later, the flames started again, fire flaring up all around them like a raging inferno.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to my beta!
> 
> Let me know what you thought about it and sorry about the cliffhanger, but I'll update very soon!


	33. Little Deaths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Recap](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/jpgq7fw6cavml97/DK-Timeline%20%28Ch.%2032%29.jpg?dl=0) by [mldcmx](http://mldcmx.tumblr.com/) ( **NB:** yellow is what happened in the last chapter if you just need a quick reminder!)  
>   
> 

** [May 2nd, 2007 – Red Room facility, Laptev Sea, Russia] **

The flames engulfed them, burning oxygen around them, leaving them out of breath. They waited for the fuel to end.

They waited.

And waited.

But all they could see were flames, and they were starting to be out of breath and dizzy.

“ The refill is bigger than the other tank,” Maria murmured.

The side of the shield hit by the flames in a direct line was starting to wear out, the Winter Soldier was holding a submachine gun with his free hand, aiming at the same spot. It wouldn't hold much longer, unless he moved. But why would he?

“ Now's your turn to trust me,” Maria said, looking at Natasha.

The redhead was panting a little, albeit she was trying to hide her fatigue.

Maria tightened her grip with her left hand, while letting go of her handle with the right one. She moved a little, circling Natasha's body with her arm, taking hold of her handle as well.

“ Let go and grip my suit.”

“ Maria, what are you-”

“ Told you, it's your turn to trust me,” she said, ragged and out of air, but still audible.

Natasha knew whatever Maria's plan was she wouldn't be able to voice it out loud because of the camera sending a live feed to their lab, so she did as she was told and let go of the shield to turn to Maria.

Natasha gripped Maria’s uniform and melted against her.

Maria took a deep breath, counted to three inside her head, then used all the strength she had left to rotate the shield without raising it above the ground, so the part that hadn't been worn out would be faced with the flame.

It wouldn't last a lot longer, though, so she knew what she had to do.

“ You need to stay behind me, okay?”

Natasha was so close to her she was basically speaking in her ear.

She felt Natasha nod more than seeing her, the movement against her shoulder making her heart beat even faster than it already was.

She wanted to say something because, despite her powers, she wasn't sure she would survive what she was about to do. She hadn't exactly tried it before.

But what was left for her to say?

Natasha already knew everything that mattered.

Her grip tightened on the handles. She knew that, once she lifted the shield up, it would dismantle and shoot around them like a host of tiny arrows were being shot from their position.

There was no doubt she would hit the Winter Soldier, stopping the flames at least for a brief moment before the shield gave out. But there would be a couple of seconds between the shield dismantling and the moment it would hit him that they would be exposed to the flames.

He was standing far away, sure, but it was still a flamethrower.

She couldn't tell Natasha to jump, they needed to be there once he was hit, so she could shoot him and finally knock him out. Or at the very least destroy his flamethrower.

There was no other choice.

“ As soon as the flames stop, shoot him.”

Without waiting for an answer, she lifted the shield up and it scattered all around them, shooting fragments in every direction.

As soon as she was able to, Maria let go of the handles and wrapped Natasha in her arms, shielding her love with her own body as best as she could. The fire hit her back, her arms, her sides. It burned through her uniform, drawing holes and burning skin.

She was so out of breath, she couldn't scream.

In a moment, it was over.

She fell on her knees.

Natasha, still standing, took out her gun and aimed at the man on the opposite side of the roof, who was gripping a fragment planted on his right shoulder using his metal arm, ready to pull it out of the flesh.

She aimed for his tank, then shot once.

It wasn't full, since he'd been using it for several seconds, but it wasn't empty either. The bullet caused a small explosion, which knocked him onto the ground, a few feet adjacent from where he was standing.

Natasha lost no time, emptying her entire load onto the body on the ground.

She walked to him while shooting, even though she didn't need to. Her aim was good and she was sure she wasn't missing.

She kept pulling the trigger a couple of times even after the bullets ran out, not realizing it could actually be over. Then she stood there, fingers trembling, hand slightly shaking, staring at the man on the ground to see if he would still move despite all the blows that just hit him. She didn't dare to move closer.

Maria was still kneeling on the ground.

She felt her shoulders and the back of her legs start to mend, but they did so slowly. Her arms started to heal as well, as she looked down at the torn uniform she was wearing. It was barely holding together, torn apart more than she would have imagined. There was barely enough fabric left to cover her body.

Her spinal cord, her bones, the muscles of her back, eventually her skin; everything regrew slowly, painfully, her mind almost giving out at the insane amount of nerve stimulation she was experiencing as everything in her body slowly rebuilt itself.

Even her hair, at last, went back to their original length.

She was shaken, scared, almost burned to death a moment before. Now. she was good as new. It was petrifying.

Shaking, she planted one feet on the ground, gripping her knee with one hand, pushing off of it and planting the other foot on the ground too.

She swayed for a moment, her whole body trembling. She needed water and food, she needed rest. But before she saw to them, she needed to see if Natasha was okay.

She turned slowly to see Natasha standing there, breathing hard, staring at the man lying unconscious on the ground a few feet away.

Slowly, so very slowly, Maria walked to Natasha. One foot in front of the other, like it was the hardest thing she had done all day, she managed to get close enough to Natasha. A shaking arm stretched, touching her shoulder, then she fell back on her knees, her legs giving out.

But it was enough.

Natasha was shaken out of her trance, she turned around to see Maria barely able to keep her eyes open, kneeling on the ground before her.

She knew she couldn't bring Maria back with a jump, it could be the final shock her body wouldn't be able to deal with. So Natasha knelt down beside Maria, taking her face into her hands. Maria’s dehydration and exhaustion were the things that immediately stood out to Natasha.

“ Let me go just for a second,” Natasha requested, but Maria's hands were gripping her elbows with a strength she shouldn't have had. “I need to get Simmons here.”

Maria looked at her, not able to talk. Natasha knew what was happening before it did.

Despite Maria shielding her, she sustained some burns around her own body. She felt the pain vaguely, mostly because she was in shock. But she and Maria both knew the camera on Natasha's uniform hadn't recorded her own injuries, because she was pressed against Maria, so the video would have probably been black.

When Maria let go of her arms, Natasha was healed.

She couldn't have done that after she brought Simmons on the roof, but it was the last ounce of strength Maria had.

“ I'll be right back,” Natasha said, the thought of Maria risking her own life just to take the pain of the third degree burns away from Natasha was unsettling. “Hang on, okay? Please, hang on.”

Not waiting for Maria to respond, she dematerialized.

Maria fell onto the ground, her eyes barely staying open.

She was laying on her side, eyes looking ahead, unfocused. She saw something shifting in her vision and realized someone was standing up. With a cold shiver running down her spine, she realized it was him. He was still alive.

The Winter Soldier was wearing a full body bulletproof uniform, protecting him from Natasha's hits. The only wounds he had were the ones caused by the shield fragments. He was bleeding and limping, but he was alive. Maria couldn't do anything but stare as he got up and limped to the helicopter, the pilot already turning on the propellers.

She stretched out her arm, pointing to him with her finger, hoping Natasha would see and understand what she was pointing at in time. The helicopter lifted up just a couple of feet before Natasha jumped back.

Simmons kneeled down, blocking her view, but she saw Natasha following her arm with her eyes, seeing her stretched out finger. Just as she turned to the helicopter, everything blurred, and Maria had to focus on her breathing so she wouldn't pass out.

She heard shots, a scream.

Then, fire again.

  
  


** [May 2nd, 2007 – Quinjet and Helicarrier above the Laptev Sea] **

May, Coulson, Barton and Morse went inside the Quinjet, one at a time, shuttling the civilians hidden inside the Red Room base back to the Helicarrier one small group at a time.

Once they were all back on the Helicarrier, they escorted the civilians into the biggest conference room they had, after checking for any weapons they might have hidden or any injuries they could have sustained.

Leaving them unarmed and unharmed, May made sure there were a couple of agents surveilling them, but she was positive there wouldn't be any trouble coming from the people they rescued.

“ Morse, check on Carter. Coulson, check on the prisoners, make sure the armed soldiers were all captured. Barton, you're with me.”

While Morse hurried to the medical bay and Coulson headed to the prison, they jogged towards the lab.

“ Simmons, how are they doing?”

“ Not good. They've been cut off the comms, the helicopter that landed on the roof cut off our radio frequencies. The camera went black, they jumped away just as the man shot at them with a flamethrower. They're not in the present anymore.”

“ Who are they up against?”

Fitz pressed a couple of keys and the picture of a man came up on one of the bigger monitors. His face was hidden, but there was no mistaking him from the few descriptions they had heard going around.

“ Natasha called him the Winter Soldier,” Fitz said.

“ For God's sake,” Clint murmured. “First the Devil's Keeper, now him. Next up will be Santa Claus himself just strolling inside our base and asking us to help him with deliveries.”

“ They're back again,” Simmons said. She put Natasha's feed on the biggest monitor, so they could all see it. “I'm downloading the video now,” she said, trying to play it on another screen.

Fury was standing in the room, but he was silent.

“ The image is blurry,” Fitz noted.

“ Wait, the flames are going around them. It's not blurry, they're behind a shield, or something similar. It seems to be fireproof, or more likely fire-resistant.”

“ The other video is ready,” Simmons announced, as it started playing on another screen. She fast forwarded it through them walking in a bookshop and on the streets of New York, then inside a building, stopping it when they recognized a man on the video.

“ They went to Stark. He must have given them the shield,” May said. “Leave it alone, let's stay focused on what they're up against in the present, see if we can do something.”

“ We should go there,” Clint said. “We can help, we can-”

“ They're about to do something,” Fury spoke up. “If you go there, you might make it worse. We have to wait out their plan before we go rushing in and ruin it.”

They watched as the flames stopped, as the soldier walked away, as the bullets rain started.

“ _How long do you think it can hold?”_

“ _He's going back to their helicopter.”_

“ _Oh, for fuck's sake, you have to be kidding me.”_

“ _He brought a fucking refill? For his flamethrower?!”_

“ _We can't hold both the flame and the bullets. Hell, we can't even hold just the bullets for much longer.”_

“ _Maria, you have to trust me, okay? Let go of your handle on my three.”_

“ _Have you lost your mind?!”_

“ Why? What happens if they let go?” May asked.

Nobody had an answer for that.

“ _Maria, just this one time, just do as I say without arguing! One. Two. Three!”_

They heard the distinct sound of a bomb going off. Then, the screen went black again.

The lab fell silent for a long moment.

“ We need to move in,” May said.

“ Not yet.”

“ Sir, a bomb went off. The camera's black, they could be dead by now. If we don't go in, we'll lose the helicopter.”

“ I already have a Quinjet ready to follow the helicopter if they move, we need to stay put for now. They could have jumped.”

“ Sir, all due respect, not even Romanoff can survive a bomb.”

May hadn't even finished her sentence, when the screen came back to life.

“ You were saying?” Clint murmured.

Hill and Romanoff were back on the roof, behind another shield. Two men were on the ground, lifeless. But him, the Winter Soldier, he was still standing, the flamethrower back in place.

Fire engulfed the screen again, they couldn't make out any sound except for the bullets flying simultaneously.

“ Why isn't he running out of fuel?” Fitz asked rhetorically.

“ It won't hold much longer,” Clint pointed out, noticing the first signs of the shield starting to give out.

“ _The refill is bigger than the other tank. Now's your turn to trust me. Let go and grip my suit.”_

“ _Maria, what are you-”_

“ _Told you, it's your turn to trust me.”_

They saw the camera shift, then Natasha pressed up against Hill and they could only see a small piece of sky and not much more. They heard Hill murmur something, then everything happened simultaneously.

The flames reached them, but they couldn't see how much damage had been done, Natasha was pressed too tightly against Maria.

Next thing they saw, was the soldier trying to pull a piece of the shield they'd been holding out of his own shoulder. They saw an outstretched arm – Natasha's – a gun firing, an explosion. He blew up, then Natasha repeatedly shot him, until there were no more bullets to be fired.

There was a faint noise, then she turned around.

Hill was kneeling on the ground, she didn't seem to be in a great shape, her uniform was falling apart, but she didn't seem injured.

“ How is this possible, she was shielding Romanoff? She should be burned to ashes,” May reasoned out loud.

“ Maybe the shield still protected them. Looks like some pieces of it flew towards him, but maybe they still had some cover,” Barton said.

“ _Let me go just for a second, I need to get Simmons here.”_

Simmons shot up from her seat, marching into the adjacent room and coming back with a bag, she stuffed a few items inside it. An air-entrainment mask, a glucose IV, adrenaline, water.

“ _I'll be right back. Hang on, okay? Please, hang on.”_

When Natasha materialized in the room, she was there for a mere second. Simmons was barely able to see her own face on the monitor as she faced Natasha's micro camera, then she was on top of the roof she had been looking at from inside the lab.

She immediately went to work. The first thing she did was made Maria drink some water, then she injected a gluconate solution into her arm with the IV, hoping Maria wouldn't pass out or go into shock.

Maria seemed to be fading out of awareness, but was still conscious. She started breathing through the air-entrainment mask, making sure she got the proper oxygen.

She turned around to tell Natasha that Maria would be fine, just in time to see Natasha staring at Maria's hand on the ground. Natasha looked up and started running, Simmons could do nothing but stand there.

“ No, wait!”

Natasha didn't stop. She couldn't let him get away, not after what he did to Maria.

Simmons saw her run to the helicopter, that was starting to take off, she started firing shots at the man looking down on her them, trying to at least hit him before they made it out, but every bullet just seemed to bounce off.

Natasha saw him in the distance, hiding behind the helicopter door. When he came back into vision, she saw what he was holding when it was already too late.

Maria regained came back to herself, lungs burning. She pushed off the mask on her face and took the water in Simmons' hand, drinking it all in one large gulp. Then, she stoop up, unholstering her own gun, aiming at the Winter Soldier and shooting as many bullets as she still had.

He only shot once, then disappeared again behind the door. They took off, flying into the sky.

Natasha was standing in the trajectory of the bullet, but jumped away as soon as she saw him fire the shot.

There was a Quinjet on the helicopter chase already, while Natasha was nowhere to be seen. She had disappeared into thin air. Maria hoped she made it out in time, before the bullet hit her.

She waited, and kept waiting, Simmons by her side.

When Natasha finally re-appeared, mere seconds later, she was covered in blood, her hands red, her abdomen red, wearing clothes that weren't her own.

Maria ran to her, but her heart sank when she realized there was nothing left to do.

Natasha was kneeling on the ground, looking up at her.

Smiling.

When Maria finally got to her, knelt beside her, took her into her arms, Natasha looked down at the camera on her uniform. Fury, Fitz, and they didn't know who else, saw the bullet hit her. Maria couldn't save her, Natasha wouldn't let her give up her life, her freedom, to heal her. Maria helped her lay down, not letting her go.

“ I made that call.”

“ Natasha-”

“ It's all recorded on the camera, so you can see. You can see.”

“ Nat.”

“ You shaped the world. The world is how it is because of you.”

“ There's still time. You can jump again. Scatter yourself through my life.”

Natasha smiled. Shook her head. “That's exactly what you didn't want. One foot in and one foot out the door, for the rest of our lives.”

Maria felt her eyes sting, tears pooling.

“ I was wrong, Nat. One foot in and one foot out is still better than nothing. I can't go back to not living. I can't go back to what life was like without you.”

Natasha raised one hand, gently touching Maria's cheek. Her smile still gracing her features.

“ I saw it. The future.”

“ I don't want it if you're not in it.”

Natasha smiled, smiled, smiled.

Maria's words couldn't convince her she wasn't doing the right thing, nothing could take away what she had seen.

“ I loved you when the world began,” Natasha whispered with her last ounce of strength.

Maria felt a tear roll down her cheek. “I'll love you until the end of times.”

Natasha's smile grew, impossibly.

“ I know.”

She had found her peace. She kept looking into Maria's eyes until the world turned black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super sorry this took so long, life got in the way. See you in a week with the next chapter. Please let me know what you thought about the chapter/cliffhanger in the comments!


	34. War is no place for a soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Recap](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/eujpryjp0td4ihq/DK-Timeline%20%28Ch.%2033%29.jpg?dl=0) by [mldcmx](http://mldcmx.tumblr.com/) ( **NB:** yellow is what happened in the last chapter if you just need a quick reminder!)  
>   
> 

**[May 2nd, 2007 – Red Room facility, Laptev Sea, Russia]**

She saw the bullet fly towards her.

She jumped, but it was too late. She felt it tearing into her skin, so she jumped, jumped, jumped. And kept jumping, one within the other, until she lost track of the layers, until it only felt like falling.

Until time seemed to almost come to a stop, the bullet slowing until it was frozen, her wound almost felt sealed even if it was open and fresh, almost like her body was stuck in time.

  
  


**[September 11th, 2001 – New York City]**

She opened her eyes and the only thing she could see above her was clear sky.

Turning on her side, she got up and looked around. She was in New York. It was so early in the morning that the sky was still dark and the streets were deserted.

Looking down at her abdomen, she saw the open wound. She could feel the bullet, almost like it was still moving from the momentum of the shot, as if time had slowed the bullet moving inside her.

She needed to find a medical kit and seal the wound shut, but Maria didn't have an apartment in NYC yet, so there was really nowhere she could go without trespassing.

Unless, of course, she paid a visit to the Red Room’s safe-house she had used before.

It was her only option, so she made her way to the house and broke in, fetching the med kit and settling herself on the couch.

The first thing to do was get the bullet out. She grabbed the tweezers in the med kit and disinfected them, then the wound. After inhaling deeply, she moved the tip inside the wound and tried to pull the bullet out.

She pulled, gently at first, then strong and steady, gritting her teeth against the blinding pain she was in. But the bullet wouldn't budge.

It was like the bullet was nestled in her skin. She couldn't get it out because, similar to her own body after the countless jumps she just did, the bullet was frozen in time, stuck inside her.

A loud, distant noise distracted her from the task.

She realized it then. It was the morning of 9/11. It was 2001.

And she was there, on a couch, powerless. Just a bystander in New York City even as all those people were about to die.

Then, she remembered. Back when she’d given Maria the miniature of the Eiffel Tower, when she said she had been to France as an excuse for her absence. She had been in Paris for a data retrieval for Fury and bought Maria that small gift as a reminder that she was often on her mind.

But it was something else entirely that was troubling her, something Maria had told her in that same conversation that came back to her right then.

“ _ I'm not mad, you don't have to lie.” _

“ _ I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about.” _

“ _ I saw some footage on the news, you were there on Monday, pulling people out of the ruins. I'm pretty sure it was you.” _

“ _ You saw me there? Here, in New York, on Monday?” _

“ _ I saw your face, I saw you on the background of a news report.” _

Maria had told her she’d seen Natasha on the news. But Natasha wasn't behind the attack, she didn't orchestrate it. Did she?

If she went on-site and checked for herself, she could finally,  _ finally _ , know once and for all if she had been right all along. If she was truly bad, if the past couldn't be changed and she was condemned to make all the mistakes she was remembered in history for.

“ _I was sure I saw you.”_

Maria told her she was sure she had recognized Natasha's face, that she was there.

So, Natasha knew, there was only one place she could be right then.

She took some gauze and taped them to her wound in case she started bleeding.

After changing into a less formal attire, she put the camera she had been wearing onto the leather jacket she had just put on, so that S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't doubt her intentions.

She got out and headed straight for Manhattan and the World Trade Center.

When she finally got there, there was chaos. First responders were already on site, the South Tower was being evacuated despite the order to stay put, while firefighters, paramedics and police officers were all at work trying to secure the area and attend to the victims of the attack.

Natasha knew the numbers by heart. She knew what would happen next and when. She also knew she couldn't change any of that.

She was there to simply see if she was truly accountable for the attack. What would she do if she was, though? She wouldn't be able to prevent it either way. Yet, there she was, solely based on Maria's words. Maria was sure she saw her there.

Except, Natasha realized, she was nowhere to be seen.

It had been ten minutes from the first attack, so she knew the second was about six minutes away. She was standing there, waiting for tragedy to strike, staring at something bigger than herself unfolding in front of her.

There was death, and fear, and grief all around her.

It was something too terrible to be witnessing.

With five minutes to go, she realized the South Tower was still being evacuated.

She remembered, as she felt her heart constrict painfully, not everyone would make it out. There would be thirteen people not evacuated in time.

“ _ You can't save them _ ,” she reminded herself. “ _ You can't save them. It's already happened. You can't save them. _ ”

Someone yelled beside her, as she stepped back, turned around, walked hurriedly to an empty alley, careful not to be noticed.

“ _ You can't save them _ ,” she knew that by heart. “ _ But what kind of person does it make you if you don't even try? _ ”  Natasha wondered.

It was an answer she didn't want. It was an answer she didn't need. Because she wasn't going to close her eyes or look away. She could change things. She could make things better, maybe not perfect: she couldn't prevent the attacks, she knew they would happen. But she could improve the outcome a little. She could make a difference.

She looked around the alley and once she was sure she was alone, she jumped.

  
  


The tower was collapsing already, but she could get some of the people in the North Tower out, at least those who had passed out who wouldn't remember her saving them. She found three who were still alive. It wasn't much compared to the victim's count, but she could save them before everything crumbled. It was something. A start.

She jumped to the South Tower, too, while it was still being evacuated. She tried to get the people who wouldn't have made it out, transporting them near the paramedics set up point, trying not to be noticed.

She heard the noise of the second plane before it even approached and realized she was out of time, there was nothing else she could do.

She stared at the sky, trying not to cry or lash out. She knew what would happen, it was only seconds away. She had all of time and space at her fingertips. Yet, she had never before felt so powerless.

She turned around, ready to leave. Then, a man saw her.

He was sitting on the ground, waiting to be treated, wrapped in a blanket. Natasha recognized the resignation in his eyes when he looked at her.

“ The Devil's Keeper,” the man murmured.

Natasha knelt down beside him, trying to see if there was something she could do to help him, ignoring what he whispered when he saw her.

“ After decades in the dark, you’ve stepped into the light again to bring humanity to its knees.”

His face was dusty, he was bleeding from his leg. They would probably have to cut it off if he didn't make it to a hospital quickly. She looked around, noticing all the rush and the hurry around them, figuring there would be no ambulances ready quickly enough.

“ Amongst death and disaster, in the lowest moments of humankind, you've always been there, since the dawn of time.”

Instantly, everything became clear.

She had always been there, amongst destruction and despair, amongst pain and death and unavoidable tragedies.

People saw her at the lowest of humanity's history and blamed her for the spilled blood. But what if there was a different story to be told?

“ _ You believe you made her, but she was the one who made you, she was the one who shaped the very heart of you. Every Devil has a Keeper. She will keep you safe. And for that, you will keep the world safe _ ,” Christina told her.

Maria's mother was convinced Natasha would keep the world safe out of her love for Maria. She thought Natasha would die to keep Maria safe. Looking down at the unhealable wound in her abdomen, she knew it was true.

There was also what the painter had told her:

“ _I've seen your third birth. You've bathed in blood and you're scared like never before, because you know what you're leaving behind. It will all come to an end with a single tear from the Devil's Keeper. You_ must _remember, whatever happens, that moment is not what defines you. What will define you, is the moment that will come right before._ ”

Her third birth. She knew Inhumans were traditionally seen as having two births: the first when life was given to them by their mothers, and the second one, given to them by the Terrigen.

Maybe her third birth was this: her death. The only freedom she could ever achieve.

The repayment of a debt she felt like she had no other way to pay but with her life. A new beginning, a clean slate. Her third birth was becoming the Devil's Keeper all legends talked about. The one who travelled through all of history.

If that was the case, she was deciding her story in this very moment.

“ _ Sometimes the way a story is told is even more powerful than the story itself. Yours is the telling, yours is the story. This is your destiny, I hope knowing this brings you solace. Your future has all already happened, even now. _ ”

The painter made it clear she would never be able to change the past. She had been taught that her whole life, and the numbers she was hearing all around her confirmed that. Nothing was changed: the exact time the planes crashed, the number of people evacuated, the number of people saved, the number of people who died. It all happened like it already had, because she was always meant to be there, just as Maria saw her: saving lives in the background of a news report where nobody would notice her and the few who did would only blame her.

She couldn't change the terrible things that happened through history.

She couldn't make the world perfect.

But she could make the world better.

She lightly touched the man's shoulder, transporting him in front of an hospital on the other side of town. There, they would save his leg.

She didn't tell him anything, she didn't intimidate him so he wouldn't talk. Even if he did, nobody would believe him.

Natasha knew what she had to do. She knew with absolute certainty, for the first time, what her presence in history really meant.

But, looking down at the blood stained gauges on her lower abdomen, she realized she was running out of time to do it all.

  
  


** [1840 – Paris, France] **

It was a few years before the revolution would start, but she jumped there, knowing she would find poverty, misery, abandonment.

She went with food and water, she brought as much bread as she could, handing it out to the poorest, starving people on the streets.

The people who saw her there, where there was misery and unspeakable pain, were the ones to start the legends about how she could bring nothing but grief.

Some people assumed that handing out food was nothing more than a way to feed the revolution, others thought it was a way to quieten the souls of the desperate for a while longer, prolonging the misery.

Natasha tried not to listen. She kept saving the weakest kids, she kept bringing them food, she kept handing out water and bread.

People saw her and thought she was reaping. But she kept sowing as much as she could.

  
  


** [79 AD – Pompeii, Italy] **

There was an ancient legend, nobody knew when or where it truly started, some said the legend was born with the world itself, that it had always been there since the dawn of time.

But in the fire of Pompeii, walking beside the outer edge of the burning lava near the erupting volcano, there was a woman.

The most powerful being to ever exist, perhaps. She was more than a woman, even, but less than a Goddess. She was a Devil, walking amidst flames with children in her arms. Yes, she was a devil, people thought.

Only a Devil would allow the fire to keep burning everything in its path.

Nobody counted the children she saved.

Nobody saw the grief in her eyes, the pain in her shoulders, the blood on her abdomen.

She was unstoppable, invincible, above humans in a way they could barely comprehend. So they named her the Devil and started whispering her name in fear. They started praying to the Gods that she would never come back to reap more.

But Natasha kept sowing. Kept sowing and watering the world.

And she could see it, right in front of her eyes.

She could see the fabric of the world, the fabric of time itself. She knew who she was saving, who they would be, the amazing things their descendants would accomplish, the way a simple life could improve humanity so much.

Her clothes were torn and the gauze soaked in blood, but she knew she could not stop. She had to make most of the little time she had left.

  
  


** [1930's – Germany] **

She went as far back in time as she could, then started all over again.

There was no way she could ever be able to save all the innocent people she knew would die, so she tried to change the course of history, instead. But nothing ever seemed to make a significant impact on the course of history the way she knew it would unfold.

The past couldn't be re-written.

Trying to warn people didn't work, people wouldn't listen. So she learned, after she lost count of the jumps she made, to let people make their mistakes.

Only after, only in the midst of destruction, could she help humanity recover. But she could also help prevent a few deaths, as long as she hid in secret. She took part in an operation to help marginalized people get out of the country in time, before the war started. Whatever she could do, however she could help, she tried; she did everything to save as many as she could from a terrible fate.

There was an American spy she remembered saving; she had been sure the man had recognized her, because her wig had slipped once, and he had seen the hair and connected the dots. But he just worked out an explanation for himself, it seemed, because he never exposed her, thanking her, instead, for returning him home safely.

For a while, she got to stay and help, she didn't regret the time spent in any single place, because the work to be done was endless. She stayed undercover and helped, until the day she was exposed and had to flee.

A photograph was the only proof of her work there; the faded picture everyone remembered, even in the present, a red-haired woman, her back turned on the camera and a small child in her arms as she walked away. Around her, weeping relatives and his mother's face twisted up in a scream.

She was trying to save him. But that wasn't what got written down in history.

  
  


**[April 4th, 1865 – Washington]**

She tried to save them all. She imagined what the USA would be like if Lincoln never died, so albeit she knew she couldn't succeed, she tried with all her might to rescue him.

She was able to save Secretary of State Seward and Vice President Johnson, both targeted by the same group.

Whoever saw her in Washington assumed she was there to help plan the assassination of the President of the United States.

Natasha kept doing whatever she could. Yet, she kept feeling like it was never enough.

  
  


**[June 28th, 1914 – Sarajevo]**

Natasha knew that avoiding five out of six assassination attempts on the like of Archduke Franz Ferdinand wasn't a bad result. But she also knew the one she wasn't able to avoid was the one who started the War.

A Bosnian man saw her bleeding on the streets of Sarajevo.

The Devil's Keeper was suddenly, as everyone's believed, the one who started the war.

  
  


** [//] **

Natasha kept jumping, landing, then jumping again from inside the previous jump.

She lost count of the places she had been, the events she prevented, the people she saved. Her powers guided her where she needed to be and she, as the diligent soldier she had always been, followed the orders.

She scattered herself across all of human history, from the dawn of time up to her own present, trying to help everyone who might need her.

It didn't matter what people kept thinking, what everyone kept saying, when they saw her on the verge of a war, an earthquake, a tragedy. She knew the truth: she wasn't the source of all the pain she was accused of causing. She was simply trying to help.

It didn't matter because the only person she needed to know she wasn't the Devil, beside herself of course, would see all the recordings on her micro camera once she was finally able to go back to the present.

The rest didn't matter. If she could do some good, save those lives, what people would think of her for centuries wouldn't matter. She was at peace with that part of her destiny. What she couldn't stand was the thought of not being able to do enough – of not even coming close to enough, because there was so much in the world that needed fixing.

She had always believed herself to be the Devil, a monster, plain evil. What she was doing made her see, finally, that she could love her power for what it was; not a curse, nor quite a gift, but not a sentence either. It was a tool. As all tools, it could be used for either good or bad, it was simply up to her.

Natasha, her whole life, had been choosing to fight against the lessons that bad people had tried to implant into her, refusing to do harm without rebelling. Now, she was choosing to use her power for what she believed in.

Natasha was choosing to be good.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to my beta, who has the patience to still deal with me after all this time <3
> 
> Thank you if you're still reading this story, and if you want to let me know what you think be assured your feedback will make my day a whole lot better. Thank you for reading!


	35. Tell them I was born into this casket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Recap](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/njw4d06xs1k9nww/DK-Timeline%20%28Ch.%2034%29.jpg?dl=0%0A) by [mldcmx](http://mldcmx.tumblr.com/) ( **NB:** yellow is what happened in the last chapter if you just need a quick reminder!)  
>   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's title from Andrea Gibson's "Ashes", a poem I highly recommend. As always, a huge thank you to my beta, this story wouldn't be as it is without your amazing self!
> 
> Enjoy!

** [May 13th, 2016 – Siberia] **

Natasha looked around, trying to discern where she was by examining her surroundings. It wasn’t a place she was familiar with, it was cold and she was fairly sure she was in the future.

Perhaps 2016? Probably some time around the middle of the year. Her powers took her there almost reflexively, like she barely had a say in what was happening; eventually, she spotted the probable factor that brought her there and then.

Tony Stark was lying face up on the ground. He was wearing some sort of armor, but it was greatly damaged, if not broken entirely.

Natasha was starting to feel the fatigue and blood loss, so she figured she could sit down for a moment, let Tony regain his breath as she did the same.

She sat beside him, his eyes stayed on the ceiling while she was staring at a wall, facing the opposite direction he was, so he could turn his head and see who was sitting beside him.

Natasha wasn't sure Tony would even recognize her. They hadn't met in 2007, not yet at least, and she doubted she would be alive long enough to meet him. She knew in 2017 she and Maria would talk to him and he would know who Natasha was. This could possibly be their first encounter, so she would wait for him to say something.

She pressed a hand to her wound and applied pressure, but the blood wouldn’t stop; she had already tried everything.

“He killed them,” Tony eventually spoke. “The Winter Soldier killed my parents. And you let him go.”

Natasha felt her heart drop.

“I tried to stop him. He was faster.”

Natasha nodded down to her own abdomen, turning her hand so he could see the red drops on her fingers. When Tony’s eyes traced her hand and then the blood stain on her shirt, he frowned deep in confusion.

“He shot you? How is it possible? When did he...”

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t your fault. The shield you’re building for us, it worked. But he got to me after that.”

Tony’s frown deepened, then, slowly, he realized which moment in time she was from and the wrinkles on his forehead smoothed out.

“We don’t know each other very well,” Natasha told him, when she was certain he knew who she was. “But I want to thank you. The shield you’re building, it’ll be ready in a year or so. It saved our lives.”

“The shield has been ready for a while, I started working on it as soon as Maria asked me to.”

His voice was void and mechanic, like he was deliberately trying to keep a neutral tone, still assessing the situation.

“What year are you from?” His question was a feeble whisper.

“2007\. The day I died.”

His eyes fell down her body, but not on the blood staining her shirt. They stopped at the edge of her jacket.

“You know about the micro camera.”

“Everybody knows about the micro camera.”

Natasha frowned, but didn’t ask. She imagined Tony Stark had access to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database, so of course he knew, and it was only fair that the video had been leaked to the other Agents after she died. It was an explanation about what had been happening inside the Helicarrier. It was a little odd that Fury would allow it, but it wasn’t impossible.

Tony wanted to say and ask her so many things, but he knew there wasn't much he could say without risk of altering the continuum of time, so he just shut up and swallowed the resentment misdirected at her.

“How long has it been?” He didn't try to move, the broken armor keeping him grounded and unmoving, his muscles still aching from the fight.

She shook her head and shrugged, “Too long. I lost track of the jumps I did, of the places I've been to.”

Tony knew what that meant.

“How long do you think you have left?” He asked in a whisper.

Her eyes met his, a sad smile barely appearing on her lips, before vanishing again.

“I changed out of the field suit when I first jumped away, couldn't walk in the streets of New York in that thing. Kept the camera, though. The wound...it wasn't bleeding at first. Like it was frozen in time along with my body. But it's been so long, years for sure, decades...I’ve been across every century. I'm soaked in blood, now. It's almost time, but before I go back I think I need to be in the future, something will happen in a few years that I need to be there for, I just don't know what, yet.”

"You _think_?”

"Yeah. I don't know how to explain it, I just have this feeling. After that, I think there'll be time to say my goodbyes, then...”

Natasha was dying.

He usually made everything about him, but this went beyond him.

"My grandpa used to tell me stories about you.”

Natasha barely swallowed the sigh she was about to make. Of course he had.

"A lot of people told stories about the big bad wolf to their kids. I just happen to be the wolf in a lot of those.”

"No, not like that,” he quickly said, his tone serious, dismissing Natasha's joke. “You saved a man in Germany in the 1930's. An American soldier went there as a spy just when the world war was starting and got captured. You brought him home. He was my mother's father. No one ever believed his stories about the Devil's Keeper saving him, not even me. It just seemed so unlikely, so unreal.”

Natasha remembered him, of course. He was one of the few men who wasn't paralyzed in fear when he realized who she was.

"Long story short, I got to see some of the footage in that micro camera a while back. When I saw his face, the moment he realized it was you… he never questioned it. He just saw you do something good and thought to himself,  _ well, rumors don't matter _. People saying you were evil didn't matter. What mattered to him was what he was seeing you do, was the fact that you were there saving lives right then.” 

"He must have been either very wise or very naive.”

"He was both, most of the times. But he was also often right about people. What you've just done, these last few moments you had, it changed everything. You could have seen the world, took a vacation, you could have gone right into the future a thousand years from now to try and find a way to save yourself. Instead, you got so caught up in saving others, you spent so long doing that, that you'll barely have the time for your goodbyes.”

Natasha didn't look at him. She kept staring at the wall. But when she felt Tony's hand blindly reach for hers, she squeezed back for a single moment, before letting it go entirely.

“You could have lived, could have _seen_ the world; instead, you _saved_ the world. And you might think it was for nothing, because of how the world saw you. But there were people like him, like my grandfather, who saw you for who you really were.”

"The thing about being so merged with time, Stark, is that I can often perceive, or, kind of sense, what a person's time is going to bring to them. And that spy? I really don't think he was your grandfather.”

Tony looked caught in a lie for a moment, then rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"The point stands. He probably did try to tell people you saved him, but nobody believed him. And like him a whole bunch of other people in that footage recognized you and knew there wasn't a single evil thing about what you were doing across history.”

"I guess you do make a point. Nothing I did was to change what people thought about me, who matters will know the truth. But I'm glad a few people saw what I really was. Maybe, someday, life won't be this hard for Inhumans anymore. Maybe this will all account for something, anything, and maybe this won't have been for nothing.”

Tony looked at her for a moment, his eyes tracing the side of her face in search of an answer he knew couldn't be there.

He shouldn't say what he was about to, he knew he shouldn't. But if he did, didn't it mean he already had? Time travel was a mess. He just knew he couldn't let Natasha go back to 2007 without doing this first.

Natasha put a hand above his chest, touching the armor gently, even though she couldn't scratch it if she tried. She jumped back to New York, leaving him on the apartment floor of his tower, where she knew he would be taken care of.

She was about to lift her hand and disappear again, when Tony's arm moved quickly, he placed his own hand on hers so she would turn to him.

"You said you need to be in the future. New York City, 2078. There's an Art Museum, near where the Triskelion used to be.”

Natasha frowned. “Used to?”

"Spoilers.”

"How do you know what is going to be there in sixty-two years?”

"Spoilers.”

"Why would-”

"Spoilers.”

They heard the elevator door open somewhere behind them.

"Go,” he told her, letting her hand go. “Go there. You need to go there before going back.”

Natasha was still frowning, but she vanished a moment after. He laid there, waiting for whomever walked in to find him, hoping he did the right thing. He asked Maria a lot of questions after he saw the footage and she asked him to build them the fireproof shield. He remembered one of them in particular.

When he asked Maria what pushed both of them to go as far as they did, to do everything they accomplished, to keep thriving and winning in the face of every adversity, Maria said it was something Natasha saw once.

“ _A painting in an Art Museum near the Triskelion, in 2078.”_

“ _A painting?”_ He had asked, baffled. “ _A painting was what saved humanity?”_

“ _Isn't it always art, that saves us?”_

Hill was never the romantic type, but Tony knew if there was something that could give hope to anyone, including a soldier, it would be the way people turned even their most rooted grief into art. Art was healing to humanity, he believed. But he had never thought it could make such a difference.

“ _She shaped the world, then saw a painting and thought, 'oh, yes, most people suck and society is broken, but this world was absolutely worth dying for'?”_

He remembered Maria had shrugged.

“ _Sometimes the way a story is told is even more powerful than the story itself.”_

Tony hadn't understood Maria words back then. He certainly didn't understand how a painting could change the defeat he had seen in Natasha's eyes a moment before. But he didn't need to understand it to make it happen.

He just hoped he did the right thing.

  
  


** [June 16th, 2078 – New York City] **

_ Well, at least Stark didn't lie about an Art Museum being here _ , Natasha thought.

She didn't understand what was happening or why she was there, but the way Tony said what he did, had convinced her to try and go there, for some reason. Maybe this was where her power was trying to pull her, it would be plausible.

But how did he know? And why did he tell her?

They weren't friends. They barely knew each other. This wasn't about saving lives, she knew by the weakness in her knees and the trembling in her hands, that part was over now. This was when she bid her goodbyes.

This was personal, for her. Something in that art gallery was going to help her accept her own death, it was going to convince her she did enough.

Why would Tony Stark help her with that? Compassion, perhaps? Maybe he felt the same way she did, like no matter how many things he invented it was never going to suffice.

She walked in, without dwelling longer, dragging her left feet a little, it was starting to feel heavy and numb. Her right hand was pressed on her wound.

Her steps resonated against the marble floor, in the empty hallway. The gallery wasn't locked, but there was no one around. She had ignored the sign at the entrance saying visitors wouldn't be able to get in that day due to maintenance, sneaking in past the gates anyway and eluding the two security guards she came across.

The main hall was large and filled with various pieces, some of which she didn't recognize. She realized some of those probably hadn't even be painted, yet. She walked for about a quarter of the length of the hallway, when she saw a sign pointing to a side room.

_ Inhumans Exhibit _ , it read.

She could only imagine which awful pieces would be there, depicting them as monsters, killers, soulless beings. At least the world now acknowledged their existence, she thought.

She walked in with dread filling her mind. But she couldn't have imagined, not in a lifetime, what was waiting for her inside that room.

The walls were filled with paintings of heroic gestures, of mesmerizing abilities, of fascinating powers. Not a single one of them was grim or degrading.

There was a girl keeping a crumbling building upright with her hands as the people evacuated. Another one had a young boy making plants all around him blossom and grow. There was a man shaping metal in his bare hands, in another a woman was painted with a trail behind her to symbolize her superhuman speed.

Then, on a wall of its own, there was the painting she was already familiar with, hung up and circled by a red string so people wouldn't get to near, a metal plate by its side.

_ The Devil's Keeper. _

Natasha walked nearer to read what was written on it.

_ Black Widow travels back to 1386, where she is struck by two arrows. The fatal hits are healed by the Keeper. The bloodied hands are here meant to symbolize- _

"Miss, excuse me, you can't be here. The museum is closed.”

She turned to see a distinguished young man stand a few feet behind her.

"Oh, goodness,” he took of his glasses, cleaning them and putting them back on. “You're Natasha Romanoff. I didn't think you would come here.”

Natasha frowned, turning slightly to face the man.

“You know my name.”

It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t lightly said either. The man smiled, cleaning his glasses again, trying to hide his nervousness in the mechanic gesture.

“Everybody knows your name,” he chuckled lightly, like it was the most obvious thing he could say.

Natasha’s frown didn’t ease, she kept looking at him skeptically. His eyebrows rose slowly and his mouth hung slightly open, as he realized what was happening.

“Everybody knows what you did,” he said, pointing at the painting Natasha had been looking at before he walked in.

She turned again, both to look at it again and to hide her injured side from the man’s sight.

“What you accomplished didn’t just save a lot of lives in the past, it also changed things in our future.”

He walked slowly, as if to avoid sending Natasha into defensive mode, moving towards her until he was standing beside her, both of them looking at the painting before them.

“Suddenly, the only Inhuman present in history wasn’t perceived as evil anymore, but as nothing less than a hero. People started believing Inhumans could be good, that they could help humanity grow and evolve.”

“Inhumans are free?” Natasha asked, almost breathless.

“Not only free, but well accepted and integrated into our society. They’re openly able to be soldiers, doctors, politicians...even museum’s curators.”

When Natasha slightly turned her head to look at his smile, she saw his ebony skin quickly fade before her eyes, until the only thing standing in front of her were his clothes and a pair of floating glasses. A moment later, he reappeared.

“You’re a chameleon.”

“I am. And I’m free to be who I am because of you. We've had our first Inhuman Senator,” he pointed at one of the paintings of a man being hit by bullets that didn't seem to faze him, “our first Inhuman president,” he continued, pointing at the portrait of a woman with fire surrounding her hands.

“I...I don’t know what to say.”

“It is I who should say something. Thank you. What you did for our society was priceless. You were historically called Mania, the Goddess of Death. Oh, how wrong they were. You brought us nothing but life.”

Natasha stared at it for a long while, and suddenly a feeling of serenity coursed through her. She was content.

“Where did you find this?” She murmured.

“It was donated to us by Miss Claire Danvers, she has an Art Gallery a few blocks from here, on Park Avenue.”

“Well, how did she come across it?”

“She inherited it. Her grandmother went to a great length to recover the original piece.”

She frowned and was about to inquire further, but his words preceded hers.

“I’m afraid I’ve already said too much.”

Natasha nodded, understanding his reticence, but determined to not let it stop her.

“It’s been a pleasure to meet you.”

“It was an honor,” he offered his hand.

Natasha shook it without thinking, smiling at him tightly. She started to walk away, when he called her name again.

When she turned around he was staring down at his fingers, the blood staining Natasha’s hand now covering them. His gaze rose slowly, understanding perfectly which moment in time it was for her. His eyes turned sad, when it clicked that she had just been doing everything he had described, right before they ran into each other.

All that death, all those tragedies, wars, lost lives, Natasha had just lived _all of that_.

He couldn’t imagine how distraught she could be. How broken her heart was right then. How lonely that endless journey had been.

He closed his hand, almost as if he could hold her blood on the tips of his own fingers instead of her hand as a gesture of sympathy.

"This will be your legacy,” he told her, his voice sounding as moved as he felt. “Peace.”

  
  


Appearing in front of the Art Gallery a few blocks away seemed like the safest choice. She didn't know who Claire Danvers was and she couldn't risk contact. So she stood there, across the street, looking at the woman moving around the gallery from the glass window that allowed her to make out the woman's face clearly.

"Maria?”

It was the first thing she thought about, and she quietly murmured the name to herself. It could make sense: Maria was immortal, maybe she was hiding under this peculiar disguise.

But the woman, despite the remarkable resemblance, wasn't Maria Hill. Her eyes were green, her hair was longer, her nose was different. She carried herself unlike a soldier and more like a civilian, she smiled without the troubled look she was used to seeing deep inside Maria's eyes. Maria had always carried with her a faint sadness, a trail of everything she'd been through, and that woman didn't have it.

No, she wasn't Maria Hill. But she was a Hill, of that Natasha was sure.

_ Her grandmother went to a great length to recover the original piece _ , the museum curator had told her.

Natasha felt her heart beat faster. She was Maria's granddaughter.

Claire Danvers was Maria's future. A future Natasha wasn't in.

The woman turned to her, staring at her for a moment. Natasha saw recognition flash upon her features and then she waved a hand in her direction, as a form of acknowledgment.

Natasha raised her right, bloodied hand, wiggling her fingers in response. She returned the smile, with a sad and weak one of her own.

Maria would be happy, she would go on and have a wonderful, happy, complete life. It was enough to bring her solace, she thought. It was enough to bring her peace.

Claire Danvers' eyes shifted to her fingers and her expression changed to a worried one, but Natasha had no time to reassure her; she felt herself suddenly falling towards the ground.

  
  


** [April 3rd, 1982 – Chicago] **

Her knees hit the street hard, scratching her already worn out pants.

She panted for a moment, trying to regain her breath, then she got up to stand on her feet again. Her journey wasn't finished, not yet. She still had her goodbyes to say.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is an even worst cliffhanger but I'm looking forward to hear what you think of this one, before we get - as the end of this chapter suggest - to the goodbyes part...and maybe an infamous phone call I mentioned time and time again.
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


	36. Monsters and the girls who loved them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Recap](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/s/gk5u3khp8cqvjma/DK-Timeline%20%28Ch.%2035%29.jpg?dl=0) by [mldcmx](http://mldcmx.tumblr.com/) ( **NB:** yellow is what happened in the last chapter if you just need a quick reminder!)  
>   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thank you to both mldcmx and cocoa-n-donuts (my amazing beta)!

**[April 3rd, 1982 – Chicago]**

Natasha walked inside the church slowly, silently, looking around like she expected the pastor to walk out of the confessional and shout at her to get out, because she couldn’t be there. Because that was the house of God and it was no place for a Devil.

She let the door close shut behind her and waited. But nobody came to kick her out.

Slowly, too slowly, she dragged her feet across the hardwood, along the nave, wondering how normal people felt while making that walk in a wedding dress. Wondering if, in another life, she could have made that walk herself, no shaking hands and heavy feet, no blood on her fingers and on her abdomen, no worn out hoodie and dark, stained jeans. But a white fancy dress starting above her chest, hugging her torso, cascading down her hips and touching the floor gently.

She gripped one of the benches and steadied herself, resisting the urge to fall on her knees and curse at the image her brain presented her with: Maria, standing at the end of the nave, smiling at her, waiting for her to walk the rest of the way to the altar.

“ _I'm almost there, love,_ ” Natasha thought. “ _Almost free to be yours for good_.”

It was a sad thought, that she would only ever be free after death, only ever be whole after death. But there she was: on her way, nonetheless.

In the middle row, there was a woman on her knees, hands together and praying silently.

Natasha sat down, finally feeling her muscles relax, finally feeling her pulse slow a little. She was hypovolemic due to the blood loss, probably hypothermic, too. Her pulse was weak and she felt out of breath. She waited too long to go back to the present, she knew that. Whatever slim chance that the S.H.I.E.L.D. surgeons might have to save her, it was all gone now.

Despite the fact that she was running out of time, she sat there, waiting for the woman to finish her prayer.

She waited, getting used to her labored breathing and the coldness. It was a painful way to be dying; it dragged on for what seemed like a lifetime, the pain following her across time and history. But this was truly the only fitting way for her to go, wasn't it? Slowly, then all at once. Just like how she lived all her life, waiting for Maria to find her again for years, and then living their whole story in two weeks. Waiting to become the Devil’s Keeper, doing so without even noticing, only to unravel her destiny in twenty-four seconds. It was how it was supposed to be.

The woman finished her prayer, dragged her fingers from her forehead, across her chest, then on her shoulders. She put her hands on the bench and used the strength in her upper arms to get up slowly and sat down next to Natasha without even rising properly. Once she was sitting, her hands fell on her own stomach, gently caressing the bump.

“Hello,” she murmured with a smile. Then she looked up and turned, her eyes meeting Natasha’s. “It’s good to see you again.”

“I didn’t think you were a religious person,” Natasha said, looking around them. A church wasn't where Natasha thought she would find _her._

The woman simply smiled and shrugged.

“I can see things that have happened centuries ago, or things that haven't even happened yet. But this is the one thing I cannot see,” Christina looked ahead, at the cross hanging on the wall, behind the altar. “What’s beyond this life, no one knows.”

Natasha nodded, deciding to change the topic at once. It wasn't the right time to dwell on what was waiting for her once she was finally through with her fate.

“You’ve always known, haven't you? That’s why you weren't scared about me being around your daughter. I was never the Devil, and you knew.”

“And I’ve told you so,” Christina smiled. “You were no monster then and, well...you’re a hero now.”

“I was only trying to help. Humanity wouldn't listen. I tried to change the past, all those terrible tragedies...it didn't work,” her words were pained, if it was because of the red dried stain on her hoodie or her emotional distress, Christina could not say.

“You can't make the world perfect, Natasha. Nobody can. Not even you.”

“No,” she laughed bitterly. “No. But I could make it better. And I tried. I like to think I did, at least a little bit.”

“You _did_. I’m honored to be the one who gets to tell you that you _absolutely_ did.”

Her hand clutched Natasha's left one for a moment, the one she wasn't using to press against her wound, then it was gone again. They fell silent for a while.

She was running out of time. They both were.

“I know why you're here.”

Natasha nodded, because of course she did. Christina knew most things, after all. She took a deep breath, as painful as it was, and started to explain all the same.

“They put a micro camera on me, it's recording right now. Everything I've done across history, they'll see it once I get back. And I won't be able to tell this to her, but it will hardly matter. She needs to hear it from you and since I won't be able to bring her here, and since that would have probably been too painful anyway, this recording will do just fine.”

Christina smiled again, putting her hands back on her bump.

“Any day now,” she murmured with a smile. “Ask away, then.”

Natasha looked down at her belly bump, wondering if there was a way to say this that wouldn't sound cruel or emotionally void. It was such a joyful news to be giving in such a mournful tone, but there was really no other way she could bring herself to say it.

“It's today. Any moment you'll start having contractions now.”

Natasha was announcing the birth of her daughter. But she was doing so in a dark voice, because she knew what would happen right after that.

Christina smiled a little to herself.

“Always the impatient kid, this one. Couldn’t wait for the last two weeks, could you?” Christina gently poked her own stomach. “I guess not. Wouldn’t have taken down the better part of an evil organization by herself because they had been holding her girlfriend captive, if she was a patient person.”

“I’m not- well, I'm not her girlfriend. Not anymore, I think?” Natasha frowned. “She...we couldn’t be together anymore.”

Christina looked at her, turning her head and slowly raising an eyebrow.

“What are you, then?”

“Well, I’m her-“ _coworker, ally, companion who got to kiss her, partner who just so happened to sleep with her the day before I died_. She couldn't really say any of that to Maria's mother, could she? She shrugged. “I’m hers.”

Christina chuckled lightly.

“Yeah. That you are. She’s yours, you know? But she’s mine, too. It pains me I won’t get to raise her. It pains me all the trauma and heartbreak she’ll have to face without me. But I’ve seen her, with you. Your adventures. How happy you'll make her. What a difference in the world she will make by your side. This goes beyond my wishes, or yours. This goes beyond all of us.”

“You knew,” Natasha whispered.

“That I would die for her to be born? That's such a small price, to me. She matters the world to me. I know you can relate to that sentiment.”

“I can. When I thought I was evil, I was ready to let the world collapse on itself so I could be good just so I wouldn’t betray her. Us. Everything she taught me and everything I believe in.”

“Tell her I knew. And I was fine with this; even more than that: I'm serene. And tell her I’ve always loved her, since the day I’ve known she would exist. I’ll always be there beside her, watching over her. Everything else I needed to tell her it's in the letters I've left for her.”

Natasha nodded, her eyes falling on Christina's belly bump again. This was the last time she would visit Maria's past, and Maria wasn’t even aware of what was happening.

Christina's body went suddenly rigid, then relaxed again a few painful moments later.

“We’re running out of time. Both of us. You need to make a call and I need to deliver a baby.”

“Christina?”

“Yes, kid?”

Natasha wanted to laugh at the name she used. They weren’t that far apart in age and Natasha had technically lived a lot longer than her, still it seemed appropriate, rolling off her lips like that.

“Thank you. Maria saved me.”

“Oh, darling,” her fingers lightly brushed her cheek for a second. “You two saved us all countless times, across history. Thank you for keeping her safe.”

Natasha nodded, getting up with effort, right hand still pressed on her abdomen.

“You need to call an ambulance,” Christina told her, dropping a handful of change in her hand, using Natasha's slightly unfocused state of mind to make her take it and put it inside her pocket, despite the fact she didn't need it to make an emergency call.

“Already on it,” Natasha said, her mind already locating the closest phone booth she could remember seeing on the street on her way there.

“Good luck, Natasha.”

“Goodbye, Christina.”

  


She walked slowly, dragging her left feet on the sidewalk a little too heavily. Her strength was abandoning her, her hands were shaking slightly. She didn't have to walk for too long, but it was still a challenge in the state she was in, blood loss was finally taking its toll on her, making her dizzy and sweaty.

Once she finally got to the nearest phone booth, she stumbled in, gripping the box to keep herself upright and dialing 911. She said she needed an ambulance, that there was a woman going in labor at the church just down the street and that they needed to hurry up because she was alone, in pain and she would have a partial placental detachment.

She hung up, not giving much thought to the fact that the knowledge she just gave the paramedics could have been the thing that hurried things along just enough that the doctors would be able to save Maria's life once they got to the hospital.

That piece of information Natasha had learned from a late-night conversation she once had with Maria would change everything.

She knew in a placental detachment, the baby had to be delivered immediately; they would do that and Maria would be safe, despite being born two weeks earlier.

The maternal mortality for that, Natasha looked it up, was one percent.

One percent.

Seemed like such a nonsensical possibility.

Yet, she knew what would happen that day. She knew Christina wouldn't make it. She knew she was that one percent.

She had spent all that time, all those dying moments, saving as many people as she could, doing as much good as she was able to. But she couldn't save this woman that meant so much to the woman she loved.

Christina said she was a hero. _But what kind of hero feels so powerless?_ Natasha wondered.

She kept looking at herself and the only thing she could see was a monster. She could have done more, she could have done so much, if only she had realized before what Maria seeing her in New York's attack meant. If only she realized she wasn't following any rules but her own, if she just followed her heart and did the right thing long before. Maybe things would be different, then.

She was doing the right thing, but it was so late. She was running out of time.

Her hands kept gripping the box, almost like she wasn't even jumping, almost as if she was the one standing still and time was speeding up around her: she floated through, barely grazing the world, skimming over time, glazing over those decades.

  


**[April 21st, 2003 – New York City]**

She was still clutching the phone when she landed.

The world around her was slightly changed, but she barely noticed. She was tired. Her breath was ragged, she leaned back on the cabin wall, fishing into her pocket for the change Christina had given her.

She knew the number by heart.

Sliding down to sit on the booth floor, she was thankful the cord was long enough. The angle was weird, but she could sit down and still have the phone next to her face.

One ring. Two rings. She prayed it would go to voicemail.

“ _Hello_?”

“Hi.”

A long pause. Then:

“ _Natasha?_ ”

“I know I shouldn't have called. I just needed-” she stopped herself, pain running through her body and making her slid further down so her abdomen muscles wouldn't be tensed up. Maria couldn't see her, of course, but she obviously heard the gasp.

“Nat?”

Natasha could picture her, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to listen carefully to what was happening on the other end of the line, frowning in concentration.

“Where d-do you think we-” she took a breath, then tried again “-we'll be in five years?”

“Nat, what's happening? Are you okay? Are you on a mission?”

“I'll be f-fine. Evac team's almost here,” her voice was weak. Ragged. So feeble it was almost inaudible.

Maria knew.

She would know, blame herself. The call had been a bad idea, but she needed this. This Maria who was still in love with her, just as much as she was still in love with Maria. Her Commander was falling back in love with her, maybe, possibly, a tiny step at a time. But it would be too late and Natasha wanted to say goodbye like this. To her. To the love of her life.

The silence stretched and Natasha's eyes were heavy, her eyelids were starting to flutter despite her will.

It was almost time.

“ _I don't know, Natasha_ ,” Maria said, almost as feebly as Natasha had spoken before.

“Will we s-still be-”

“ _Nat, where are you? Is there someone I can call, something I can do, anything,_ anything _that could get you out of...of wherever you are?_ ”

“-w-waiting for our ch-chance-”

“ _Natasha_.”

“-in f-five years?”

There was another long pause. Maybe the change wasn't enough, Natasha tried to tell herself. It wasn't that Maria hung up on her or that she didn't want to tell her the awful truth, it was simply not enough money to finish the conversation.

“ _You'll have paid off your debt. I'll have a boring desk job, probably in the FBI or something. Some kind of nine-to-five job that sucks the soul out of you, you know?_ ”

Natasha chuckled so weakly that Maria felt her heart starting to break.

“S-soldiers don't do well be-behind desks.”

“ _That's right, we're awful at sitting on our asses_ ,” Maria agreed, trying to keep her tone light despite the sting starting in her eyes.

“W-will we have our-” she swallowed, her teeth gritted. “Our home?”

“ _Yeah, just like we planned it. With the beach out back, a dog and a cat. We'll always eat on the patio, see the sun as it sets, it'll always be the same view but each night it'll be slightly different, you know? So we'll never get tired of looking at those colors._ ”

Natasha thought about how all the colors looked less bright when they weren't reflected in Maria's eyes, how everything wasn't as mesmerizing or as enchanting if Maria wasn't there to see it with her.

She hoped Maria didn't feel the same.

She wished Maria would eventually get to travel the world and see everything, and love every little thing the world had to offer, despite the fact that Natasha wouldn't be able to see it with her.

“Can the cat be black?”

“ _Sure, love, the cat can be black_.”

“C-can we- can we get one of those s-swings? For out back.”

“ _Of course. A big one, so the cat and the dog can fit_.”

“And the kids.”

“ _Nat_.” Maria's voice cracked and she inhaled sharply. Natasha could picture her swallowing back the tears.

“It sounds perfect.”

Her eyes were burning. Her breathing was slowing down.

“I can almost see it.”

Maria couldn't say anything else. She let Natasha talk, as she listened to the last few drawn out breaths through the line.

Natasha remembered Claire Danvers like she was still staring at her. She knew Maria would get married, Stark's guard called her Mrs Hill. She knew Maria would have kids. Just not with her.

She felt her strength get back to her, a final surge. She opened her eyes again.

“Promise me you will, Maria.”

“ _Natasha_.”

“Promise me you'll do all of this. Maybe not in five years, but eventually. The house, the dog and cat and everything else you've ever dreamed of. The marriage, the kids. A patio to have dinners in, a big swing. The happiness.”

“ _What if nobody else can ever make me as happy as you?”_

"Promise me you'll find a way to be happy.”

Natasha smiled, remembering the Inhuman curator in the museum, remembering Claire Danvers, remembering Christina. Sharon Carter, Clint Barton, all the friends they saved. All the lives they saved.

She had done her best.

She hoped it was enough.

“ _I promise._ ”

Natasha smiled, closed her eyes.

“I love you. I always have.”

“ _I always will._ ”

The receiver slipped from her hand, slowly. She tried to get up, but fell on her knees, instead. She felt time shift, she felt herself be pulled back to her very starting point, rapidly closing jump after jump, and being deposited back in the present, almost dropped there against her will.

She was out of time.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so that was it, the end of the story.
> 
>  
> 
> ...Haha, no. That was a joke. There are still a few chapters to go, I'd never end this story like that. Let me know what you thought!


	37. Say my ashes never made the news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Andrea Gibson's poem "Ashes"

**[May 2nd, 2007 – Red Room facility, Laptev Sea, Russia]**

She was on her knees and Maria was a few feet from her. She was still smiling faintly. She was serene, as Christina had said herself. It was how it was supposed to be. Everything was fine.

Maria ran to her, cradling her gently.

“I made that call.”

“Natasha-”

“It's all recorded on the camera, so you can see. You can see.”

“Nat.”

“You shaped the world. The world is how it is because of you.”

“There's still time. You can jump again. Scatter yourself through my life.”

Natasha smiled. Shook her head. “That's exactly what you didn't want. One foot in and one foot out the door, for the rest of our lives.”

Maria felt her eyes sting, tears pooling into them.

“I was wrong, Nat. One foot in and one foot out is still better than nothing. I can't go back to not living. I can't go back to what life was like without you.”

Natasha raised one hand, gently touching Maria's cheek. Her smile still gracing her features.

“I saw it. The future.”

“I don't want it if you're not in it.”

Natasha smiled, smiled, smiled.

Maria's words couldn't convince her that she wasn't doing the right thing, nothing could take away what she had seen. The things that brought her solace, that brought her peace.

“I loved you when the world began,” Natasha whispered with her last ounce of strength.

Maria felt a single tear roll down her cheek. “I'll love you until the end of times.”

Natasha's smile grew, impossibly.

“I know.”

Their story would be told for years to come; their love would remain even after Natasha was gone. She kept looking into Maria's eyes until the world turned black.

Maria was only vaguely aware of the helicopter above them, of the people walking to them as she held Natasha in her arms. Simmons asked her to step away so she could start assessing Natasha's condition, but Maria could feel her pulse quickly fading out. They wouldn't even make it back to the Helicarrier.

She knew why Natasha hadn't gone to another past or future version of herself to heal her: it would be recorded on camera, S.H.I.E.L.D. would have known and Natasha didn't want Maria to risk her career, or her life, to save her; just as Natasha already told Maria when she was shot with arrows, Natasha didn't want to be saved.

Natasha felt, in her last moments of consciousness, Maria's lips on her cheek, on her temple, then they grazed her ear as she whispered against it.

“I hope you can forgive me one day.”

Her right hand moved Natasha's shirt, her fingers circling her wound. Jemma's eyes followed the movement immediately, May caught up with them then, followed by Barton and Coulson.

“Because if I don't do this I'll never forgive myself,” Maria finished, as she felt the bullet travel backwards and fall into her hand, the wound closing up slowly, the perforated organs first, then the muscles, the bones, the nerves. At last, the skin sealed.

Natasha didn't move.

She was still limp in her arms.

Maybe it was too late. What if she waited too long?

“Sir, did you see that?” May spoke through the comms.

“ _Agent May, something's happening with the camera, it's downloading an alarming amount of data from Agent Romanoff's twenty-four seconds jump_ ,” Fitz answered, instead of Fury.

“Sir, Agent Hill is-” May knew the camera would show it. She knew it would be recorded. If she didn't immediately alert her superior through the comms, they would all be accomplices. She didn't have a choice. “Agent Hill is an Inhuman. We await orders.”

Maria had laid Natasha down on the ground, taking her pulse. It was faint, but it was there. She was alive.

Natasha was alive.

She came to with a gasp and a jerk, coughing and turning on her side. It took her a moment to realize what had happened.

Maria sighed in relief, then she got up, hands raised. She took a step back.

“What-” Natasha tried to get up. “What happened?”

Barton got down next to her to help her sit, while May and Coulson reluctantly aimed their weapons towards Maria.

“What did you do?” Natasha whispered. “Maria, what did you do?”

They were all wearing their ear pieces, still. They all heard the order simultaneously when it came in, Fury's voice sure and decisive.

“ _Arrest her._ ”

“No!” Barton held Natasha back, kept her on the ground.

Maria stayed still, hands up, palms open. May walked to her, turning her arms so they were positioned behind her back, careful not to hurt her. Maria didn't fight it at all. She looked down, avoiding Natasha's eyes, and let herself be dragged into the helicopter by May.

“Agent Romanoff, I need to assess your health-” Simmons started, but Natasha was too agitated and frantic, the only thing holding her still were Clint's arms.

“We need to get back to the Helicarrier,” he said. “You can do it there, once she's calmer.”

Simmons nodded.

Natasha kept staring at Maria as she walked away and ascended into the helicopter, exhaustion and blood loss taking their toll on her, blurring her vision. Before she could fight it, she was passing out again.

 

The room was white. Soundproof. Bulletproof. Basically anything-proof, as far as Maria could tell. There was a bed, a pillow, a chair and nothing else.

On one of the walls, there was a mirror glass; Maria was sure either Coulson or May were behind it. In the upper corner of that same wall, there was a camera.

Her ears were still ringing and her hands were still stained in Natasha's blood, her uniform was torn and her face felt dusty.

It was too quiet.

Outside, chaos was exploding all around. Getting back on the Helicarrier had been a series of tornados, everything was happening at once; nobody would tell her a thing, but she understood there was something wrong with Natasha's camera and that, a few moments after being infused with liquids, Natasha got back to full form, which meant she was uncontainable. Maria didn't know what had happened in those twenty-four seconds, what Natasha's words meant, what was happening right then. She didn't even know if Sharon was alright.

She knew the other cells weren't quite as comfortable; she helped put a consistent number of the inmates where they currently were. Now, how the tables have turned.

Time passed, a doctor came to assess her health, to see if she was injured, to take her vitals. She was given water and a meal, it must already have been dinner time. It was still morning when they left the roof, but the hours had simply passed her by.

She fished into her pocket, retrieving the bullet that had fell into her hand when she was healing Natasha's wound.

She turned it in the palm of her hand and then stared down at it. It was a .338. It was bigger than the bullets in her gun, but still, it was a small object that could fit in the palm of her hand. It wasn't even as big as a finger. That tiny thing, covered in Natasha's blood, could have taken her whole life away in the time span of twenty-four seconds.

She kept staring at it, as if it would suddenly appear more threatening if she stared long enough. Clutching it in her hand, she slipped it back into her pocket.

When she raised her eyes again, Natasha was standing in front of her.

She had changed out of her worn civilian clothes and into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s uniform, the blood had been washed off her, she looked rested and clean. It was probably the first moment she had alone since being brought back, and the first thing she did was appear in Maria's prison, the last place she should have gone to.

Maria slowly got up from the sitting position on the bed, standing in front of Natasha silently.

Neither of them spoke, they both knew what was about to come and the discussion wouldn't be pretty or polite. In fact, Maria was hoping the Agent keeping watch on her would come in and take Natasha away before they could even start.

Then, she realized why Natasha showed up. Guard duty. May or Coulson probably left their place to Barton and he would never try to stop Natasha.

Natasha's eyes weren't hard or disappointed, they were sad and distant. Maria didn't know what to expect emotionally from her.

The silence stretched on for a few more moments, until Natasha raised her left arm, hand outstretched, palm up.

“Let's go.”

Maria looked down at her hand, then up at her eyes again, but she didn't move.

“Come on, let's go.”

Natasha's hand faltered for a split second, then she raised it up fully again.

“Maria, you have to get out of here, I'm taking you somewhere safe.”

“You know I won't go.”

“You have to.”

Maria shook her head. “I didn't do anything wrong. I'm done running or hiding, this is who I am. Who I was always supposed to be.”

“Damn it, Maria!” Natasha's hand fell on her side, her fingers clenching in a tight fist. “I asked you not to do this. You career is over, your-”

“I don't give a damn about that, you would have died!”

“-oh, _bullshit_! You love this job.”

“Like I've never risked this job to save your life before.”

“Don't you understand?” Natasha asked sternly. “You didn't just lose your job, this isn't like when you stole a Quinjet. You're incarcerated. You're the only other Inhuman they have, they'll never let you out of prison again!”

“So be it.”

Natasha couldn't believe her. She stared at Maria, Maria returning the stare with a frown, then she chuckled bitterly at Maria's impassiveness.

“So I'm just supposed to be okay with this? You gave your life to save mine and I just-” she shrugged. “I don't even get a say in this.”

“Come on, Natasha, I hardly gave _my life_ -”

“You don't get it, do you?” Natasha sighed, then her voice got colder and steadier. “There was another, with a similar power. She lived in a small village in China, she could absorb life force, she could heal herself, didn't age,”

Maria almost shrugged, unsurprised that there were others like her.

Natasha's voice got colder and harsher. “HYDRA vivisected her.” Her gaze fell to the floor and she grimaced. “I tried to stop them, but I couldn't.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D.'s not HYDRA.”

“No, they're not. But they have scientists. Researchers. You know how the world sees us. You know what will happen.”

“They can't kill me.”

“No. They can study you, though. They can take your organs out one by one, slice them up, put them under a microscope. They'll do anything it takes to understand how Terrigenesis works. You're their perfect subject, the unkillable patient zero.”

“I know,” Maria admitted candidly. “I always knew if I revealed myself there would be a possibility-”

“Then why the hell-” Natasha raised her voice, but she was stopped by Maria's calmer one.

“I couldn't lose you again.”

It was really just that simple.

Natasha's breath got caught in her lungs at the quiet admission. She outstretched her hand again, a silent plea in her teary eyes.

“Let's go. I can't let you be tortured while I'm on the same plane. I can't stand by and watch them destroy you.”

“If we run, Nat, we'll never be free again. We'll have to live always watching our backs, always sleeping with an eye open, never able to just settle and rest. That's not the kind of life I want for you- for _us_.”

“I can't let you take my place in a glass cage.”

Maria looked down, closed her eyes for a moment. She looked up again and took a step towards her, raising her hand. Instead of taking Natasha's outstretched palm, Maria used it to push on Natasha’s forearm, making her lover lower her own hand.

“I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me, someday.”

“Forgive you for what?” Natasha asked, on the verge of desperation.

Maria shrugged, weakly.

“Everything I do paralyses me with fear. I keep asking myself if I'm doing the right thing, if that action will be the drop that makes you overflow. I brought you here, you thought you'd be free, but it was just another cage; I wondered if that was the thing that would turn you evil. I tried to avenge you, but it made you lonelier; I wondered then, too. I loved you and loved you endlessly, this I never doubted for a second; but for your love of me, you stayed here, where no one trusted you and you were under constant scrutiny. I worried and worried, but I kept trying, because, selfishly, I didn't want to lose you. Now I wonder, and maybe that's presumptuous, if seeing me being taken apart is what will ruin you. And still, I couldn't let you go, still I had to heal you.”

“If you thought I'd turn evil...”

“I can't believe any of that legends shit. I can't see you as anything other than...than the woman I fell in love with. Strong and courageous, stubborn, witty and fiercely protective. I can't see you as evil, so I took that bet saving you the first time, and any other time, and I'll keep betting on you, Natasha, because I don't think I've ever _not_ been in love with you for one day in my life.”

Natasha barely let her finish before stepping forward, she took her face into her hands, kissing her sweetly. She pressed her nose against Maria's and their foreheads touched briefly.

Then, she stepped back, and disappeared. A second later, she was in front of Maria again, a tablet in one hand. She raised it and showed the images on it to Maria.

“I did it. I did all of that. That...legends shit,” she said.

Maria frowned, watching what Natasha's micro camera had recorded.

“Four hundred twenty-nine thousand, two hundred and fifty-three hours of video recording with me scattered all across history, saving lives, improving them, trying my best to bring some good into the world. It was all because of you, Maria, because of that bet you took, because you believed in me.”

“Four hundred...that's...”

“Almost forty-nine years. Those memories are a bit faded, I remember my present better. But they're there and they're here,” she pointed at the tablet. “It's all there. Everything I've done.”

“You've been fighting for fifty years? You've been alone for-” she swallowed heavily to keep her tears in check. “Nat, I...”

“Four hundred twenty-nine thousand, two hundred and fifty-three hours,” Natasha repeated. “And not a minute went by that I didn't think of you.”

Maria hugged her, then. Close to her chest and as tight as she could without hurting Nat.

“I'm going to be alright,” Maria whispered against her hair, “It's going to be fine.”

Natasha hugged her back, clutching her back with the hand that wasn't holding the tablet, releasing a breath she didn't realize she had been holding.

“I'll get you out of here.”

“You can't. I'll be okay, I promise,” she stepped away, kissing Natasha quickly before backing off entirely. “Go, I'll be fine. Go.”

Natasha looked at her for a moment longer.

Maria nodded and tried to give her a reassuring smile, trying to appear calmer than she actually was. She blinked. She was alone.

 

**[May 3rd, 2007 – Helicarrier]**

Nick Fury was experiencing the worst headache of his life. Correction: the worst time of his life so far, because he was sure, as long as these were his best agents, headaches would be anything but a rare occurrence.

He stormed into the lab, where a meeting had been called, right after he finished his conference with the World Council.

“So, let's do a brief recap of yesterday, shall we?” Fury said, pacing the lab.

Fitz and Simmons were sitting at their chairs, in front of the computers, while May and Coulson were standing beside them.

“We were supposed to enter a recon mission. Instead, the Winter Soldier shows up, straight out of a legend book, and starts shooting at two of our agents with a flamethrower, for which he brought a refill. One of my agents, the Devil's Keeper, straight out of _another_ legend book, gets shot and dies.”

He almost felt the need to start pacing, but was trying to maintain a stern looking exterior, so instead he just clenched his fists behind his back.

“Surprise, the most infamous Inhuman in history is good, has actually been good all along, and we now literally have more than four-hundred-thousands-hours worth of footage to prove it. But whoops, she's dead. So then, another one of my agents, turns out to be a healer. And saves her life. And we're forced to arrest her because some fucking idiot alerted the damn World Council, which by then was watching the micro camera live stream of the roof.”

His voice had gotten increasingly high during his speech. And his agents were all looking the right amount of frightened.

“Am I leaving something out?”

“Agent Carter-” Coulson started answering the rhetorical question only to be interrupted.

“Ah, yes. As if the World Council wasn't already making a fuss over the Romanoff thing, Carter wakes up claiming she had been shot three times on the back. And some idiotic jerk puts it in an official report that is sent to the Council along with all the other information before I can stop it!”

May looked at Coulson with glaring eyes, as an advice to stay silent.

“Sir,” Fitz started, drawing May's stern look upon him. “We have a bigger problem right now,” he tried to justify the interruption.

“What could possibly be a bigger problem than two of my agents being killed and another one resuscitating them?”

“Well, sir, I think you might want to turn on the news.”

“The news?” He asked, Fitz finally sparking his curiosity. “Which one?”

Fitz and Simmons looked at each other, he turned in his chair, turning on the computer screens behind them, as Simmons answered the question.

“All of them, sir. All of them are covering this.”

“Covering _what_ exactly?”

“Part of the micro camera footage was leaked. The Devil's Keeper story is on every front page, news report and online magazine, sir.”

He stared at the screen, watching one little excerpt after another, all of them showing Natasha saving or helping someone.

“It's impossible, there are hundreds thousands hours worth of footage, just editing of that kind of data would have taken days, possibly _weeks_ , it's-”

He turned around, looking at those present. He felt his headache worsen even further, when he realized what was happening.

“Someone find Agent Romanoff. _Now_!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, it's been a crazy month. Please let me know what you think!


	38. Pledge, Turn, Prestige

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to my awesome beta cocoa-and-donuts!

**[May 3rd, 2007 – Helicarrier]**

Fury marched into the med bay, all of May's team on his heels. As soon as he entered, Natasha let go of Sharon's hand and got up from the chair. She had been sitting next to the blonde's bed for the past hour, giving her an update.

“Romanoff, what are you doing?”

“I was keeping Agent Carter company, sir.”

Fury looked between the two of them; Sharon wasn't giving any clues about what Natasha might have been talking to her about.

“We had a leak,” He said eventually.

“A leak, sir?”

“A leak. Of the micro camera footage. It was edited so that not your face, nor Agent Hill’s were ever shown anywhere. It's all over the news, they have experts already authenticating it as real, and they're doing reports, interviews, discussions.”

“That's… troubling, sir,” Natasha said, her face inexpressive.

“I know it was you. This won't free Hill,” he warned her, sternly.

May's phone went off and he turned around, ready for some other bad news to be brought to their attention.

“May. Yes. What do you mean it's gone? How can a… no trace? What about the- ah, I see.”

She disconnected the call, Fury waiting for her to explain.

“Sir, the footage of Agent Hill has been erased from video, all the recordings, digital or otherwise, are missing. The only thing still on our archives is the micro camera footage, because it's only accessible with your credentials. But it's just the moment when she held Natasha, since the camera was on Romanoff's jacket it can't be clearly determined if she heals her or not.”

“You were there. Carter-”

“Sir, I didn't see who healed me. In fact, I don't think I was shot at all,” Sharon said.

“You said yesterday that you were shot. Three times.” Coulson stated.

“I was in shock and confused,” Sharon answered calmly.

“The record of Sharon's report is gone as well,” Fitz said after looking for it on the tablet in his hands.

“There are going to be bullet holes in your uniform,” May said.

“Also gone,” Fitz scrolled down the scarce list of all the evidence they had left. “There's nothing that can prove Hill's an healer. Except for Jemma and May witnessing the incident.”

May looked at Natasha for a second, then back at Fury. “Sir, we were too far away.”

“Oh, for God's sake,” Coulson muttered.

“What if Romanoff got surgery while she was in the past?” May gestured towards Natasha. “She was covered in blood, but when Maria raised her shirt...no wound. And there wasn't a bullet on the roof. Bullets don't just vanish, sir.” May pointed out. “You have to admit surgery sounds more probable than Hill cheating on every biological test to get into the army and S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Fury knew how she got in. He was the one who made sure, in fact, that Natasha altered all of Maria's DNA test in the missions he had assigned her.

“The World Council won't accept this...change of heart.”

It wasn't easy for him, either, but it was the reality.

“Hill is going to be transferred to the Triskelion in an hour, where they can begin the study, with her cooperation, of course. She is going to help us be the pioneers of Inhuman biology studies.”

“Sir, we're not even sure she's an Inhuman,” Simmons said. “If you bring her up, we can verify if she is before you send her away for no reason.”

“You were on that roof,” Fury noted.

Jemma looked down for a moment, then back at him.

“Sir, I cannot in full conscience allow you to do physical experimentation on a human being, what if you cut her open and she can't heal herself? Worst case scenario, she dies on the spot from blood loss or cardiac arrest. Slightly less bad scenario, she gets stitched back up, she gets an infection and dies or is out for months. I'm only asking you to give me five minutes with her, that's all.”

Fury sighed, assessing the request.

“Coulson, May. Bring her up.”

  


Maria entered the med bay handcuffed, her eyes stayed on the floor, afraid of what she might see reflected in her friends' if she looked them in the eyes.

She was escorted by May to a nearby chair, inside an area provided with recording cameras. Simmons brought a surgical tray and sat down in front of Maria.

“Can you show me your hand, please?” Jemma requested, stretching out her own.

Maria carefully laid down her hand on top of Jemma’s, watching as she retrieved a scalpel from the tray and placed it on the palm of her hand.

To her credit, Maria's confused expression was Oscar worthy. She even let out an audible yelp when Jemma cut through her skin. Blood spilled out and pooled on her palm, surprise and outrage shining in Maria's eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Agent Hill, can you heal yourself, please?” Simmons requested.

“Excuse me?”

“Agent Hill, you were arrested because you were suspected of being an Inhuman.”

“ _What_?”

“Agent Hill-”

“I thought you brought me in because I...” she looked at Natasha. “I revealed the true nature of our past relationship. I assumed you thought I was compromised.”

May raised an eyebrow. To her credit, the act was flawless.

But Fury didn't seem to be thoroughly convinced by all of that. “Coulson, get a Truth Machine in there.”

He and May looked at each other, then at Natasha. Romanoff shrugged, there was nothing she could say to change his mind.

“Yes, sir,” Coulson agreed after a moment of hesitation, starting to walk in the direction of the door.

  


Maria wasn't lying.

Even though they knew she was, or at least she _should have been_ , she didn't appear to be. She was convinced the reason they arrested her was that she was compromised, she was convinced she wasn't an Inhuman, she was convinced she wasn't able to heal herself, let alone others.

“Sir, can I search her?” May asked, voice lowered.

“What?”

“Search her. It'll only take a moment.”

Coulson frowned, looking at her skeptically, then at Romanoff. When she didn't appear to have any idea of what was going on, he turned to May again.

Fury nodded. “Just make sure it's not on camera,” he whispered back.

May approached Simmons and Hill, just as Simmons was finishing the disinfection and bandaging of Maria's hand.

“Agent Hill, please stand up,” she instructed.

Maria complied without hesitation, May escorted her out of the room and into the med bay again, then she searched her. Maria was unarmed, her pockets were empty, she didn't even have her phone with her.

“Found something?”

“Nothing, sir. Not even an used bullet.”

They all stood there for a moment, then Fury instructed them to take Maria back downstairs into custody, but they stalled.

“How did she lie to the truth machine, sir?” Coulson asked.

“Does it matter? The World Council will have no choice but to drop the charges.”

“And the bullet?” Natasha asked, voice just as low.

Fury shrugged again. “Didn't you take it from her pocket when you went inside her cell to talk to her and hug her?”

“No, sir,” Natasha frowned. “Wait, you saw that?”

“I didn't. As a matter of fact, you were never there, propositioning to break her out of jail, were you, Agent Romanoff?”

“No, sir. Never been there.”

“That's what I thought.” Fury sighed, shaking his head. “All of you, please stop causing one disaster after the other. I need this headache to go away.”

He muttered something about children while leaving the room.

A moment after he left, Clint walked into the room whistling like he didn't have a care in the world and smiled at Coulson.

“Hey guys. What did I miss?”

“Clint, why are you here?”

“I was getting bored, guarding an empty cell. Shall I, uhm, take Maria back down?”

“Knock yourself out,” May said. “We'll wait for some news, Fury's probably going to talk to the World Council right now. If all goes well, Maria might be out again soon.”

Melinda looked at Hill, nodding encouragingly. Maria nodded back almost imperceptibly and then went with Clint, back down to her cell.

  


Coulson kept pacing around the lab, while May was leaning on a wall, watching him go back and forth.

Fitz and Simmons were going through more of Natasha's micro camera footage, while Natasha herself was sitting on a desk beside them.

Sharon, fully recovered and dismissed shortly before by the doctors, didn't lose any time before joining them. She was sitting at the chair of the desk Natasha was sitting on, looking at the footage Fitz and Simmons were going through.

The only voices were of Fitz's and Simmons' as they sporadically inquired about a particular time or event in the footage.

Natasha almost always gave them short, often monosyllabic answers.

When Fury finally entered the room, everything went quiet and still; Coulson stopped pacing, Fitz and Simmons stopped talking, Sharon turned around in her chair and May raised her eyes towards the lab door.

They stared at him, patiently waiting for what was about to come.

Fury didn't say a word. He walked towards the middle of the room silently, opening the door to the glass prison Natasha had spent most of her time on the Helicarrier in.

“Agent Romanoff, I have to ask you to please return into the Web Thread.”

Natasha, to her credit, only had a moment of hesitation. She jumped down the desk, walked to him slowly but surely, then turned and walked into the cell, staring at him as he locked her back into a cell that could no longer keep her.

“The World Council asked that you returned into the cell, where we have an internal camera monitoring you constantly. Hill is still going to be transferred to the Triskelion's prison. A full investigation about our conduct will take place, I will be under close scrutiny, as will all of you. I neglected to tell them we had The Devil's Keeper for weeks and they aren't taking it too kindly. You're going to be transferred somewhere else. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s not in charge of you anymore.”

The room fell silent as all of them tried to wrap their heads around what was happening. Maria would be transferred to New York, Natasha was going to be brought who knew where to be used who knew how. And Fury was handing an empty apology to her.

“I imagined this to be a possibility, sir,” Natasha said calmly.

“Sir, there has to be something, anything-”

“There isn't, Coulson. It's done. It's out of my hands.”

“So this is it? We're handing over the two people who saved us? Who saved the world?” Carter asked, standing up.

Fury turned to them, breaking eye contact with Natasha.

“I gave them time, didn't I? But Hill is still downstairs and Romanoff just walked back into her prison. They could have ran away, but they didn't.”

“But what’s the point, sir?” Simmons asked, then she turned to Natasha. “You could be free. The entire world’s view on history is already shifting, most people are already reconsidering their opinion on Inhumans entirely... and it's only been a day!”

“You could run and be free soon enough,” Fitz continued. “Why are you staying?”

Natasha turned back to Fury after hearing their questions, without offering any answer. She looked at him for a moment longer, then she sat down on the bed, looking ahead.

“She's staying for the same reason she surrendered in the first place,” Fury said. “Hill is here. And she won't run off, she's too loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D. to do that.”

“No, sir,” May spoke up for the first time. “Hill is loyal to _you_.”

Fury knew it was true. Maria had always been an excellent agent, but under Fury's guidance she was quickly becoming the best one.

Before they found Natasha, he had a brilliant future in mind for her; as Commander in the near future and eventually as his second in command.

Furthermore, he had played a fundamental role in giving Natasha the freedom she needed to go back to the past and fall in love with Maria, and for that she would always be grateful.

But he had been in his job for too long, and he knew the Council would have never let the two girls go. They were too valuable. Every espionage agency in the world would be after Romanoff soon enough, and the organisation to first get to the Black Widow would dictate worldwide happenings for the foreseeable future.

“I've done everything I could.”

Without adding anything else, he walked out of the room and went back to his office.

He had to relieve Barton from guard duty, since Maria wasn't going to go anywhere.

He also had to reassign Simmons and Fitz. Since the Web Thread was going to be dismantled soon enough, it was probably best if they went back to a ground lab. They were only two kids, barely the age that an average kid would graduate high school— they shouldn't be dealing with things like these.

Their team spent months trying to capture The Devil's Keeper, they spent so much time building that cage, that _trap_. He had always found himself thinking about what would have happened if they ever did end up catching her, but he never thought it would all go FUBAR this quickly.

He took his phone out while still walking.

“Barton, update?”

“All clear, sir.”

“Good. You're off guard duty, the others are in the lab. Go anywhere but there.”

“Copy that.”

Clint put his phone back and took a last look at Maria through the mirror glass of her cell. He sighed, shaking his head. He was going to take the longest nap of his entire life.

  


May was still leaning against the wall, long after Fury left. Carter was still sitting on the same chair, the only difference was that her feet were now up on the desk where Natasha had been sitting before.

“I'll go down, convince Maria to run off with you,” Carter offered.

Fitz-Simmons were silent, still going through the footage, not asking questions anymore, now that Natasha was back inside that prison they’d built.

“If I wasn't able to, I don't think you can,” Natasha said.

Coulson, to May's profound disappointment, was still pacing.

“Can't hurt to try, can it? Plus, she'll like the company.”

Natasha shrugged, but Carter didn't move. She was torn between staying and going, because leaving meant she was going to see Maria for the last time and she would have to say goodbye. And it also meant she had to say goodbye to Natasha, because she would probably be gone by the time she would be back. And Sharon was really not that fond of goodbyes.

“Would you _please_ stop pacing?” May finally asked Coulson.

Coulson did as he was asked. He looked at Natasha, then down at the tablet in his hands.

“Why are you here?” He asked in Natasha's direction.

There was no answer.

When he moved again, it wasn't to pace, but to walk straight to Natasha's cell, pressing the screen of the tablet against the glass.

“Why are you here?”

Natasha turned her head, to look at the screen he was showing her. It was Maria's cell footage, showing her sitting on her bed and facing forward.

“She hasn't moved an inch since Clint brought her back down,” Couslon said. “You're standing here unmoving, too. Why?”

“We're in prison.”

“Yeah. And Fury just said they'll never let you go again. These might be the last few moments the two of you know where the other is. So why aren't you there?”

Natasha frowned. “I'm in prison.”

“The World Council wanted you in a cell with a camera. There's a perfectly good camera there,” he pointed at the tablet screen to prove his point. “You could have argued. You could have jumped to her and waited there, you know Fury wouldn't have objected to that. Why didn't you? Why are you here?”

“This is where Fury told me to be.”

“Or rather, this is where you've been all day. We were in the med bay together, we walked here together. We haven't seen you jump in a while, actually.”

“My orders-”

“Forget your orders,” he told her, his eyes scrutinizing her. “This is the woman you love, you should be with her. Jump to her.”

Natasha kept staring at him, unmoving.

“Fury's orders are to stay here.”

“Okay. Jump two feet to your left. You don't even have to stand up.”

She didn't move, her eyes locked to his.

“You can't, can you? Just like she couldn't heal herself. You can't jump cause you're not an Inhuman. In fact, I don't think you're even a person at all.”

The attention of all who were present were fixed on their interaction by then. Natasha didn't deny the allegations. She didn't say anything at all, as a matter of fact.

“Simmons, grab one of Stark’s portable x-ray scan please.”

She did as Coulson asked and brought the device to where he was standing, scanning Natasha's body from outside the cage.

“Oh...my God.”

“I'll call Fury,” May said, bolting from the room.

Coulson kept staring at the Romanoff-shaped thing staring back at him.

“You're a LMD, a life model decoy. Hill, too.”

Natasha smiled, turning to the camera that had to supposedly be recording her every move, then back to Phil. He understood instantly that the camera had been off all along.

“You used the test we did on Maria, the fact that she couldn't heal herself, her right answers to the truth machine, as a distraction. If we were too busy trying to figure out what was wrong with the LMD-Hill, we would never look for you two. It was a smokescreen.”

“You're really good at this, Coulson. Don't be upset you didn't work it out in time, it wasn't possible for you to have figured it out any quicker. In fact, you would have never found out at all, but we couldn't program the LMD's with our powers, so there was no way of making this a permanent deception.”

She smiled again, then turned until she was facing straight ahead like she had been before Coulson approached her cage.

Her eyelids fluttered, then shut.

Natasha, wherever she was, had turned it off and stopped controlling it. He looked at the tablet, noticing Maria's head hanging down the same way Natasha's LMD was.

Wherever they were, they weren't on the Helicarrier anymore. They hadn't been for a while. And Coulson doubted they would be able to trace them.

Natasha and Maria were free.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the last, then a brief epilogue. Let me know what you thought!


	39. I'm saving your place

**[May 3rd, 2007 – Helicarrier]**

Fury was staring blankly at a report when May burst into his office without notice.

“Sir, they escaped.”

“What? What do you mean-”

“Hill and Romanoff.”

He got up hastily, “What do you mean they escaped?”

“They appear to be long gone, sir. Probably not on the Helicarrier anymore. Possibly completely untraceable by now.”

“How is this even possible?”

“We need to go back to the lab, I'll explain on the way.”

 

**[May 5th, 2007 – Helicarrier]**

They had been gone for three days.

Every hope of ever finding them again was further diminished when they realized the swap must have happened on Wednesday evening, on the 2nd, because they never lost sight of Maria on the 3rd. Of course, they never told the World Council that, just so they would believe that Maria was the one taking the Truth Machine test and proving to them Agent Hill wasn't an Inhuman.

After seventy-two hours, they dropped the search.

S.H.I.E.L.D.'s servers would always be up and running, able to detect any anomalous activity, but the possibility that Romanoff and Hill would slip up was down to almost none.

Simmons also suggested their radar might not be able to even capture Natasha's jumps at all, not anymore, since she seemed perfectly able to escape the handcuffs and the Web Thread, both based on the same tech as the radar they used to place her jumps.

Fury re-assigned all of them and suspended their current missions.

Hill's team was gone; temporarily, as Fury told the former members of said team. Natasha's name and appearance had never been revealed, and Hill was currently being cleared of all charges with the World Council, since they couldn't prove she is an Inhuman to begin with.

When Maria's name was cleared, he would restore the team. They would be able to, eventually, assign Natasha the codename Black Widow and bring her back, too.

The Devil's Keeper would only ever remain a legend, nobody would ever know the face behind the camera in all those footages.

A knock on his door distracted Fury from that line of thought.

“Come in.”

Phil Coulson walked in and placed what seemed like a full-length novel on his desk.

“All our finished reports on the last week or so. The unofficial version.”

“The official one?”

He placed a single piece of paper on his desk, never breaking eye-contact. Fury almost smiled when he saw that it was completely blank, but with Coulson’s name signed at the bottom.

“Very well, then. Dismissed.”

Coulson turned around, but hesitated when he reached the door, backtracking once again and looking at Fury for a moment.

“I thought about it a lot. How they might have done it. And I think I've figured it pretty much all out. But there's one thing that keeps making no sense to me.”

“What is that?” Fury asked, mostly out of politeness more than actual interest.

“How did she get your retinal scan? You're the only one who can access and modify the footage from that micro camera she carried around. Even if she tried to hack that, it wouldn't have been possible without your retinal scan.”

Fury frowned, then nodded.

“I thought about that, too. And honestly, I'm not confident I want to know, because I'm pretty sure she wasn't there when I lost my left eye, and I'm not in a rush to find out if she is the day I lose the other one.”

Phil chuckled, then shook his head.

“Maybe it's for the best, for them to not be here while things cool off. All I know is that I'm never doubting Romanoff's loyalty or Hill's orders ever again.”

“Yeah, I think that's wise.”

Phil nodded, then hesitated a moment longer.

“Do you think they will actually ever come back, sir?”

He sounded almost afraid to ask. But Fury smiled at him, confidently.

“They'll be back when I call them. After all, they're always where we need them the most, aren't they?”

“Yes, sir. I guess they are.”

 

**[May 2nd, 2007 – Helicarrier]**

Maria kept waiting for something, anything to happen, but it had been entirely calm ever since Natasha left her cell, up until when Clint opened the door without any kind of warning.

“Do you want to take a shower? You're dusty and bloody.”

Maria frowned, then raised an eyebrow.

“You have Fury's permission to do so, is what I meant.”

She kept staring at him, waiting.

“Oh, come on. I know you want to get that stuff off of you, let's go.”

He walked out before she even got a chance to answer, so she could do nothing but follow after him.

“You know, you should have handcuffed me. You're a terrible guard, we're lucky you're good with that bow.”

Clint just shrugged, “You're not a prisoner, Maria. You're here because you want to be, just like Natasha. We both know that, there's no need to pretend otherwise.”

She knew that contradicting him wouldn't do any good, so she just stayed silent and walked by his side.

 

Maria got under the water spray and stayed there until she felt her skin starting to wrinkle. She washed off the dust, the blood, the smell of fire and burned flesh.

Her flesh.

She remembered the sensation all too well, and the need to vomit suddenly and violently arose when she recalled just how much of her body was reduced to ashes.

She dressed slowly, with the uniform Clint had provided for her; brand new and fitting perfectly. Once she was done, she opened the door that led out of the changing room and to the room he was waiting for her in.

Except, when she walked in, she noticed he wasn't alone.

“What the _fuck_.”

Natasha was standing up, leaning on the wall, a perfect replica of Maria was standing next to her, eyes closed, unmoving.

“Why in the world do you have a Life Model Decoy of me? That shit is super top secret, Fury will kill you if he finds out you used his tech to make this.”

She walked to the thing, examining it carefully to see how good it was. As expected, it was impeccable.

“Maria, meet Maria two-point-oh, a non-inhuman version of you,” Clint said, smiling at his own joke.

“I suppose this is some kind of escape plan. I already told you, I won't bail.”

“Yes, you will,” Fury's voice made Maria spin around so quickly she almost fell on her ass. “And that's an order, Agent Hill.”

“But, sir-”

“Listen, I appreciate the loyalty greatly, but if you stay and they prove you're an Inhuman, you're done. We can't have that, Hill. Go with Romanoff, let this blow over. Once all charges are cleared you can come back.”

“How will the charges be dropped, exactly?” Maria sighed. She couldn't see how that would be easily done.

“Because the LMD won't be able to heal itself. The World Council will demand I have you transferred to the Triskelion once I refuse to do the experiments on you myself. I'll sent the life model decoy and they won't be able to do the experiments. If they even manage to realize it's an LMD, it wouldn't matter: you'll be long gone by then.”

“If I don't stay and face this now, things for Inhumans will never change, sir. We'll always be treated like this, excluded from military fields, discriminated,” she said, shaking her head. “I have to stay and face the trial.”

“They'll have you tortured,” Natasha said.

“I've been tortured before, in any way a person can be. They can't break me.”

“Doesn't mean we should stand by and let them try,” Clint noted.

“Agent Hill, have you thought about what will happen to Agent Romanoff if they find out that she's the Devil's Keeper? That the face behind the camera is hers?”

Maria frowned. No, Fury wouldn't let that happen, would he?

“Once they're here, there's nothing I can do to keep them from at least some of the Helicarrier’s internal camera footages. I can delete the ones from the Web Thread, say the whole project had been sunk by the Devil's Keeper herself. But there's footage of her jumping from my office. And I bet there's footage of her jumping out of her room, too. They'll find it eventually, if they believe there's still a chance she's here walking amongst us and they can capture her.”

Maria turned to Natasha, her eyes pleading.

“I won't go without you. You know I won't,” Natasha said. “It's okay if you want to stay, I'll stay with you.”

Maria knew that would be disastrous. But she also knew that Inhumans needed them.

“We can't abandon this cause,” she whispered.

“Inhumans are already being rehabilitated, the footage is doing a lot for that. We'll find other ways, Maria. But this one? You being endlessly tortured? No, this isn't one I'm willing to accept without fighting. I'll stay by your side.”

Maria stared at her for the longest moment, but she knew Fury and Natasha had already discussed everything they needed to. There was really no other choice but to accept that way out.

“Alright. Let's do this, then.”

 

**[May 3rd, 2007 – Helicarrier]**

Coulson and May went down to the prison and asked to take Maria with them.

Clint told them, obviously, that Fury ordered she didn't leave until she was to be escorted to the Triskelion. But they said Fury gave them a counter-order.

He could do nothing but stand aside and watch as the LMD was being taken up into the med bay. As soon as they were out of sight, he bolted to the nearest elevator and headed for the hangar.

Clint brought them the LMD's controls and helped distract a pilot while Maria and Natasha sneaked into the first Quinjet due to leave in a few minutes.

Everything was set.

He hurried back to the lab, pretending he got bored and was there to escort Maria back downstairs with him.

 

Fury wasn't happy when Simmons asked to do an examination on Hill, before she left. He knew Romanoff's LMD had convinced Sharon to lie about the report, but apparently she wasn't the only one willing to take Maria's side whatever the cost.

He was both proud and irritated, and he had no choice but to comply with the request. The only thing he could do was to buy a little extra time, so she made sure they did a truth machine's test.

When May asked to search Hill, he knew they had forgotten a crucial detail, the thing that would give them away. The bullet.

He wasn't wrong.

Coulson started to work it out then, May as well, but she was a more experienced soldier than he was and had the knowledge that sometimes suspicions are better unconfirmed.

When they eventually discovered the swap and alerted him, there was nothing he could do but play his part in the act.

Romanoff and Hill left the control devices on the Quinjet, stole two parachutes and jumped off in the middle of who knew where.

Even if one of his other agents thought about checking the Quinjets, many had left in a short span of time, and nobody knew which one they were on, not even Fury himself.

The only person who knew where they were headed, the approximate time they had jumped off, and could therefore calculate their whereabouts, was the one person Fury was more than certain would never try to: Clint Barton.

They were safe.

 

**[May 3rd, 2007 – Utah]**

They disentangled themselves from the parachutes and started looking around to see if there were any signs of civilization to be spotted.

“We're in the middle of the fucking desert,” Maria whispered, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand on her forehead.

“We're about seven miles from the US Route 50.”

Maria looked at her, frowning.

“How-”

Natasha pointed behind her. “There's a sign.”

“Oh.”

“You were never great at directions. That's why I always led. Come on, we've got a long way to walk before we can finally drink some coffee that doesn't taste like rotten water.”

“Water doesn't rot.”

“ _Maria_.”

“Natasha.”

They looked at each other, neither of them moving, then Maria saw the shadow of a smile ghosting its way onto Natasha's lips.

It was gone before it could even mean something.

They started walking towards the route in silence, but both of them had so much to say, it wasn't bound to last for long.

“I know you're mad, I know you wanted to stay. But you can't change things as an Agent who gets arrested and is never seen again. Become Deputy Director, or hell, even Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., and then, when the whole world knows you're an hero, come out as Inhuman.”

“Is this how you plan on doing this?”

Natasha didn't answer, but Maria could see the words hitting home the second she said them. She knew Natasha would never be able to have a free day in her life if she told the world that she was the Devil's Keeper.

Natasha looked away and Maria felt her heart sink.

She had spent years wishing for a second chance. There had been a time when being in front of Natasha again was just a dream she could only allow herself to dwell on while she was in that blissful state between being asleep and awake.

But here she was. Here they were.

Together.

Against all odds, they were together again and they could be themselves, truly, fully. No more lies or omitted truths. They could just... _be_.

Maria closed her eyes for a second, feeling the desert sun on her skin. It was never quite the same on the Helicarrier, not even on the open bridge.

They were alive. Free. Did the rest even truly matter?

“I'm tired of fighting, Nat,” she said, opening her eyes again. “We’ve already fought the rest of the world. I'm done fighting you.”

“When you're ready to forgive me-”

“I already have. And I think,” she added, making eye contact for a second longer, “I think it's time you forgive yourself, too.”

Natalia Romanova was nothing but a distant memory. The Devil's Keeper was never evil as the legends had said. And the Black Widow was off duty.

She could just be herself. Natasha Romanoff.

“Do you remember when the painter said he saw my third birth?”

Maria nodded. “You thought he was predicting your death.”

“He wasn't. I was born as Natalia in 1984. Then I was born again as The Devil's Keeper in 2002. I don't owe anything to the world anymore, whichever destiny I had is done now. I can do whatever I want, be whoever I want.”

“And who do you want to be?”

“Who I've always wanted to be. Natasha Romanoff. She has the two things I've always desired most: freedom... and you.”

This time, the smile stayed on Natasha's lips for a long time.

Maybe things still weren't perfect, but they were starting to mend them. They forgave each other without having to ask and loved each other as much as they always had. Things would be alright again.

“Can I ask you something?” Maria pondered, her eyes on the road the were walking on.

“Sure.”

Maria tried to find the right words, her steps slowing down to a stop. Natasha realized she wasn't walking anymore and turned around to face her. Her expression wasn't hard or hurt, it was curious and maybe a little tentative.

“All of time. _And_ space. You could have gone anywhere in the world, seen anything you wanted to see. Instead you kept coming back to that small old flat in New York. Why?”

Natasha looked down as she took a step forward.

“I tried it. Saw the Great Wall, the Pyramids, Machu Picchu. Each time, I would turn to see what you thought about it, but you weren't there. I kept looking for you when I was walking on the path to the statue of Christ the Redeemer. I saw the Eiffel Tower and I thought it was very high and well built.”

“You loved the Eiffel Tower,” Maria whispered, frowning. “Your eyes sparkled and you smiled like you didn't want to ever leave again.”

“That was when we went there together. And I told you I hoped I could keep all the promises I made to you. I couldn't imagine life being that merciful. You held me when the sun was setting and I knew then, why it was different.”

Maria was completely caught in the look in Natasha's eyes: the sparkling green, and she had a soft smile on her lips, speaking like she was about to reveal the secret of life itself. And Maria could do nothing but listen, completely entranced.

“Every single thing in this world is more beautiful when it's reflected in your eyes. I could have seen it all without you, but it would have been meaningless,” she said, almost shrugging at the foregone conclusion it was to her. “You make the colours look brighter, the music sound lovelier, and the art more moving. You make everything...more. The world is right only when I'm with you.”

Looking at Natasha's smile, Maria knew exactly how she felt.

The same thought she once had now occurred to her again.

“ _I'm gonna marry this woman, one day._ ”

They had been in Rome the first time, all sweaty from the hill they climbed to the top of, looking down on the majestic view of the entire city. Now, they were walking under the sun, in the middle of the desert. They were tired and on the run. And still, there was nowhere else in the world Maria would rather be than beside Natasha.

“What do you say,” Natasha started, her eyes never leaving Maria's. “Do you still wanna go to that ball in Versailles now that you know that I could actually take you there?”

Her hand was outstretched, her palm up, an open offer.

Maria smiled, taking it gently.

Natasha jumped.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An epilogue to wrap it all up will be here shortly, but this is pretty much it. I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it and I want to thank everyone who read it, who left comments, who left kudos.
> 
> A brief thank you note: To Char, my beta, who kept reminding me of the light at the end of the tunnel, if it wasn't for her I'd have given up every single time inspiration left me, but she kept me going, encouraging me but never pressuring me; To Sara, who brainstorms with me all my ideas and listens to my rants without ever complaining, this idea wouldn't have even made sense without her inputs and advices. This story is for you, the two most positive, encouraging people in my life, and for everyone who read it.
> 
> From the bottom of my heart, thank you.


	40. You do not have to leave to arrive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from "I Sing the Body Electric" by Andrea Gibson

  


**[October 18th, 2007 – Formentera, Spain]**

The sun was warm for an early October afternoon, the sea was calm; the only noises that could be heard were the calls of the seagulls and the waves crashing against the shore. Even the wind was absent, making the scene calm and quiet.

All was still enough for Natasha to enjoy the beach.

If she had to use a single word to describe her surroundings, she would have picked ‘peaceful’. And if she had to use another one to describe how she was feeling, she would say ‘content’.

Then, a sound reached her ears, but she wasn't quick enough. A second later, wet skin was sliding against her own.

“You're cold.”

“Refreshing,” Maria corrected, trying to appeal to Natasha’s love for her.

“It's October, the water is _cold,_ not refreshing.”

“Mh,” Maria made a non-committal sound as she bowed her head to kiss Natasha's collarbone and her shoulder. “You sure you don't want to come check it out?”

“I could be...” she entwined her hand in Maria's hair, bringing their lips together for a brief, sweet kiss, “...persuaded.”

Maria smiled and raised her head.

Natasha looked up at her, her head crowned by the sun, her eyes so lively and happy, a dashing smile on her face. Maria was unspeakably perfect. What she felt for the brunette went beyond words. It went beyond worlds, time, even matter itself.

“Maria, I-”

One of their phones went off, and Natasha was almost glad it did. She didn't even know how that sentence was going to end, but perhaps it was better they never found out. She swallowed the lump in her throat and got up to a sitting position as Maria slid off of her to retrieve her phone.

She sat down beside Natasha, bringing the device to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Agent Hill, it's been a while.”

“Director Fury.” Maria gave Natasha a look that spoke for itself. “You're on speaker.”

“I take it Agent Romanoff is there with you?”

“I am, sir,” Natasha confirmed.

“Well, let's cut the pleasantries short. I didn't go through all the trouble of finding a functioning number to ask you how sunny Mexico is.”

“Oh, we were never in Mexico, sir. I'm afraid that was a decoy to get the Interpol off our backs,” Maria admitted.

“I see. Well, that was clever. And the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't even notice it was a decoy is exactly why I'm calling. My Deputy Director is going to retire in a few months, I need someone I trust to take that position, Hill. And Romanoff, if I have to send another soldier to do a spy's job I'm going to _lose it_.”

He didn't even mention how much Clint had been moping around since they left, or how Carter was trying to be sneaky about trying to track them since day one. He didn't tell them how hard Coulson and May had been working to get the World Council off their backs, eventually having them drop the charges on Hill and convinced them there was no trace left of what the Devil's Keeper looked like.

“So just come back, would you? It's been months. God knows how many lifetimes you've lived by now. Bring your asses back here.”

He ended the call without even waiting for them to answer.

Maria stared at her phone, trying to decide if that conversation actually took place, or if she was hallucinating due to the cold water she was in just a few minutes before.

She eventually put her phone back in their bag and turned to Natasha, who was already looking at her.

“What do you think?”

Maria shrugged, turning to look around them. “It's nice here, isn't it?”

Natasha almost smirked, the itch to get back as clear in her voice as the six a.m. alarm that Maria still had set on her phone to remind her it was time for her workout.

“It is. The house, the beach out back, the patio. It's all perfect.”

“We could stay,” Maria said, turning to look at her. “Stay here, get a cat. A dog.”

_A family._

The last part went unsaid, but understood.

“I don't know if I'm ready to retire, just yet,” Natasha admitted, “But I'll follow you to the end of the world and back.”

“You already did,” Maria reminded her.

Natasha smiled, then shrugged, “I'll follow you to hell and back, then.”

“You’ve already done that, too,” Maria said, her tone a little darker.

She reached out, taking Natasha's hand in her own, her eyes once again scanning the marvelous landscape in front of them.

“Are you really ready to go back?” Maria asked, a little unsure. “Missions and assignments mean we won't see much of each other for days, weeks, sometimes even months maybe.”

“You're forgetting that I can reach you in the blink of an eye, wherever you are. I promise I'll always be with you when the day ends, Masha.”

Maria scooted closer, hugging Natasha with one arm. Natasha rested her head on Maria's shoulder, closing her eyes.

“You’ve shaped the past. We’ve changed the future. Maybe this is our chance to find out if there's something we can do to make the present better, too.”

“An average life together, Hill? Well, this might just be the greatest adventure we’ve embarked on to this day.”

Neither of them, in the beginning, thought they would get here; to this happiness.

“Nothing about any lifetime with you could ever be average, Romanoff.”

They traveled from the start to the end of the world, yet any second they spent together felt unique. All of time and space, but still, they could never get tired of each other.

The forehead touch and kiss they shared were both a promise and a reassurance: whatever fate they might face on the journey they were about to start anew, they would be ready to face it.

Together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last thank you note: to you, for reading this story until the very end. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.


End file.
